


Not In Our Favor

by TwilightCakes



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:02:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 63
Words: 207,825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwilightCakes/pseuds/TwilightCakes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Katniss thinks she had found her happily ever after with Peeta, but when a hunting accident lands her in the hospital, she wakes up discovers she has no idea who he is. Her memories of life for the last two years are all blurry, but she does however remember Gale. Will the baker that seems to be her polar opposite be able to win her over twice? Modern Day AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Happiness to me is like a sunset.

There are different ranges of it, different stages that mean different things.

The first part of the sunset that catches your eye is the bright, jubilant orange, just like the joy of seeing a firework explode in the sky or the first taste of champagne.

Then, it fades to a blushing yet electric pink. The rose color to me is like the promise of something great, like a trip to the beach or a visit from an old friend.

Then slowly it fades into soft shades of purple, which is darker, but just as happy. The soothing color to me signifies the things in life that are always there to make you happy- they aren't as fleeting and sparse as the other two. The purples mean steady things, like the smell of home and a kiss from someone you love.

All of these colors fade into the blue darkness of the trees below, signifying the cool, calm of things you can always rely on. I hadn't had much to rely on for years, until I found him one day. Or I guess he had found me. Either way, we were together now, and that was all we needed.

Finally, I am happy like the sunset.


	2. Chapter 1: The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big thank you to Phantom Serenity for her beta work! She also came up with the lovely title : )
> 
> If you haven't been reading my other Hunger Games fic, check it out- it's on my profile – 'Cruel Summer'. If you would like to come say hi on twitter, my name is TwilightCakes.
> 
> I got the idea for this fic watching 'The Vow' and decided to put a Hunger Games twist on it. I hope you like it, and please review!

Where do I begin when it comes to him? He appreciates the sunsets, as few people do. That’s a good place I guess.  
I turned my head to the side and gazed at him as all of the colors played across the planes of his chiseled face. His blue eyes are captivated by the quickly changing colors, taking them in as they bend and change as night steadily falls. I could tell he's soaking them up and trying to make them last in his memory. I wouldn’t be surprised to see these happy colors show up in one of his paintings sometime in the near future. But that's okay- it's one of the things I love about him.  
He sees beauty in things that many people overlook.  
"You know, it's not polite to stare."  
A second passed and I uttered a choice word under my breath, knowing he’d caught me in a rare sentimental moment.  
I hated being mushy.  
He tended to bring that out in me.  
I snorted and shook my head.  
"Course not. You have something on your face."  
He laughed and elbowed my side. "I do not. You were just staring at me. I must look extra pretty tonight or something."  
I let the crickets chirping fill the silence for a few moments. "I maintain my original statement."  
Now it's his turn to snort. "All the more reason to get in. The water will wash any of this imaginary gunk off my face."  
"Peeta…"  
"It's almost dark, Katniss. No one's here to see. Come on, before it gets too cool out." He stood and stretched, the golden hairs on his head glinting beautifully in the last rays of sunlight. His cheeks were pink with heat, or maybe excitement for our monthly ritual, wasn’t sure. Any time he got to see me naked his cheeks turn pink.  
"I have you to keep me warm." I countered back slowly, admiring the way his stretch made his shirt ride up. The light hairs on his stomach that lead down into his shorts caught the sunlight. He noticed me looking again.  
It sent a thrill through me.  
"Come on," he half pleaded, half laughed.  
"I'm coming," I sighed.  
He grinned, the dimple on his chin making an appearance. I shook my head and stood, stretching slightly at my body protested from sitting still for so long as we watched our sunset. I’ll indulge him and he knows it. It’s only once a month hat we come up here, after all. The winding dirt road I discovered while hunting one day led up to a secluded lake high up on the hills. It was so calm and quiet and undisturbed that I had almost felt bad telling another soul about it. But I knew if anyone would appreciate it, it would be him. Like I said, he appreciated the beauty in things that others often overlooked. When I showed him, of course he had loved it instantly. I wasn't sure who the land belonged to, but I was pretty sure we were the only ones to venture up here in years. The path was overgrown and wild, with barely enough room to drive the beat up Chevy he loved so much.  
"Less thinking, more stripping," he playfully chided. I nodded and blushed, peeling my tank top off my sweaty body. The summer heat was sweltering, even for early September. But this was Tennessee, and the only thing hotter than a Tennessee summer was a Tennessee late summer. The muggy heat would build and build all season before finally slamming us with one more sweltering month before the mercury plummeted and the trees turned golden. I unbuttoned my jeans, wincing as the sweat made them stick to my underwear. I flung them to the ground in a heap, stuck disgustingly together. Unhooking my bra, I swallowed my brief embarrassment and added it to the pile on the ground.  
There.  
I was naked. I hate being naked period - being naked out in the open was whole other issue. It had taken him months to convince me to go completely nude during our ritual. Peeta had no shame through, and had stripped down without any coaxing on our first trip here over a year ago. He had claimed that a sparkling lake and a hot day wasn't something he could resist. I had laughed as he jogged down to the water that first day, his bare white ass practically blinding me in the sunlight. I was hesitant to go skinny dipping, especially in a new place that anyone could see, but…Peeta had a way of convincing me of doing things I wouldn't normally do. His kind eyes and charming smile made anyone melt. So, I had stripped down after several visits and joined him.  
It was as exhilarating as it was scary.  
Taking a deep breath, I let myself revel in how liberating it was to stand in the muggy twilight by the lake, free of restricting clothes. I heard him tromp through the grass towards me, his footsteps loud and heavy. Closing my eyes, I smiled as his hand brushed my shoulder. His body throbbed with heat against my back, his hard, dewy chest pressed flush against my backside. I grinned wider.  
"You could never be a hunter, Peeta Mellark."  
His response was muffled against my hair as I feel him inhale.  
"Did you need something?"  
"Why would I need to be a hunter when I have my very own huntress?"  
"It's a moot point I 'spose."  
Another muffled response from behind me and I feel the goose bumps start to rise up.  
He ran his hands over my shoulder, the rough callouses making my skin tingle with their feather light touch. I shivered slightly, but certainly not from the cold. His hands were strong and warm from the work he does, yet their touch can be so soft and gentle. I couldn't count how many times I had watched, mesmerized as those hands had mercilessly pounded bread dough into submission, roughly shaping and kneading it. And yet, they could be tender too. Pulling a paintbrush across a canvas to paint a cloud, scratching our kitten behind the ears, or touching the skin at the nape of my neck. I shivered again as he did that now. His fingertips were soon replaced with his lips as he groaned against my sweaty skin.  
"What is it about a sweaty woman that turns you on so much?" I laughed, leaning into his mouth.  
His hands wove their way around my waist, pulling me closer. "Um...s' primal," he mumbled, his fingertips fumbling with the tie on my braid. "Silly braid." I heard him add.  
"I only did it because it was so hot. You can undo it. "I muttered, remembering at first how hesitant I was to let him see me with my hair down. So much had changed since then, it doesn't seem real. He pulled the tie out, tossing it on the ground near my clothes and before long my hair is a mass of dark waves down my back. He ran his fingers through them, a growling slightly. Then, his hands were on my waist and I felt myself get hoisted up.  
"Enough of this horseplay. We came to swim!" he exclaimed as I shrieked. He gallantly strode to the lake with me over his shoulder like a sack of the flour he uses at the bakery. After tossing me in and diving in behind me, we were soon drenched and enjoying a splash fight in the shallows. Peeta's laugh rung out across the water, and soon my joined it. We swam and played for almost an hour before soon it's too dark to see much of anything. As was our habit, we made a mad dash out of the lake, avoiding cattails and chirping frogs, across the grass and back to his truck. He pulled out a ratty blanket and wrapped himself in it, pretending to hog it in the suddenly cool night air. I yelled and smacked his shoulder, holding my hands over my arms as I shivered. He guffawed loudly before opening the blanket and pulling me against his chest.  
I sighed and leaned into him, enjoying the way his steady heartbeat rung in my ears as he rubbed the blanket up and down my back. Glancing up, I shared a grin with him as we stood in the moonlight cocooned in the old blanket.  
"I love you always, Katniss Mellark," he grinned, pecking my lips.  
"I love you always, Peeta Mellark. Even if you hog the blanket."  
He laughed loudly and silenced me with another kiss. This one lingers, and before long it isn't cold at all. His slightly damp, warm skin pressed flush with mine in every place possible. I opened my mouth against his, inviting him in. He tastes like cinnamon and sugar, and I always want to kiss him, even if I hate to admit it.  
I never thought I would be the type of girl who would want to always want to kiss.  
But I guess I never thought I would be married to a guy like him.  
I accidentally moaned and then cringe, hating the way I sound. Peeta chuckled, knowing this. I always tried to be quiet – I'm not a breathy, moan-y type of girl, and I hated when I sound like a wanton harlot. Never the less, the sound urged him forward, his hands roaming down my sides, slipping around my bottom.  
I moaned again and he chuckled louder.  
"Shut up," I growled before smiling against his mouth. He softly bit my lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. It makes my insides tingle and I began to fidget, my body antsy for release. I knew how to make him cave.  
I started by running my hands up and down his chest, admiring the concave dips of his hard stomach. A life of hard labor has left his body with little to want after, and my hands have learned to crave his skin under my fingers.  
Soft yet hard.  
Muscle and flesh.  
Powerful yet gentle.  
Mine.  
I grinned against his mouth again as we played, teasing and taunting each other as only we can. We play fight, but in the best way. Before long, the thrill of being naked in the open darkness in nothing but a blanket excites us both and we're kissing frantically, our heaving bodies close to giving in. I could feel Peeta panting between kisses, his strong hands grasping at my ass. He pulled me against his hardness, groaning as I reached my hand forward to stroke him.  
"Katniss," he grunted against my hair. I softly bit his shoulder in answer, my grip firmer around him. He backed me up against the side of the Chevy, the blanket still tight against our bodies that are quickly growing warmer with sweat despite the chilly night air. I threw my head back, my wet hair pressing against the metal. He lifted my legs around his waist, using the truck as leverage. I gave him a look that clearly said I want him and he didn’t make me wait.  
We pretend to tease, yet he never makes me wait.  
The blanket falls to the ground, long forgotten as he slipped inside my walls. He is hot and smooth, just like always. We only recently began doing this without barriers, and I could never go back. The feeling of him against me in every possible way was something I quickly grew used to. I bit my lip to keep from moaning, and he sees this in the dim moonlight. His blonde eyebrow twitched, a soft smirk on his features. He dipped his head down and worshiped my chest, one aching mound at a time. I felt myself start to come undone.  
"P…"  
"Say it, Katniss," he whispered against my breast, lifting up his head. "Say it."  
He plunged into me again, his movements gentle yet with purpose. Even against the side of his truck, out in the open, this act is nothing raunchy. He looked at me with love and need in his eyes I feel nothing but safe and unusually trusting. I bit my lip and sighed, closing my eyes as he reached between us to stroke me softly. When he bent forward and pulled my nipple into his mouth I finally caved.  
"Peeta," I breathed through my teeth, clenching around him. He groaned against my skin and thrust his hips a little harder. I grabbed his arm as I started to come undone, my walls clenching around him. His blue eyes seemed to shine as they met mine in the moonlight, and I felt my abdomen start to quiver. A few more soft, feathery touches and I finally lost control. He followed right behind, clenching my body against his like it's his lifeline.  
After, we lay sprawled in the bed of his truck, sharing our damp blanket. My head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heart as we stare at the moon. His legs were tangled with mine and you probably couldn't tell where he ended and I began if you had to. I sighed contentedly into his sparse chest hair and am silently happy that he somehow found me.  
"You know, it's times like these…"  
He trailed off, his voice falling off before he finishes. I lifted my head up and raised my eyebrows. "That what?"  
He propped his head up on his free arm and smiled. "Nothing. Was going to say something sappy that you would hate."  
I laughed and put my head back down. "I can guess, I suppose."  
He knew me so well. Yes, I was happy that Peeta Mellark had found me. For once in my life, I was a content girl. When I'm with Peeta, nothing bad can touch me. I hope I never lose that.


	3. Chapter 2: The Accident

Chapter 2: The Accident

Soon after our trip to the lake, the season drifts into fall. The leaves start to change and soon the colors are bright and flecked with gold. I have discovered that I love to watch him watch things, the emotions he's feeling clearly flickering across his kind face.

I spoon more tomato soup into my mouth as I sit and watch him today. He's toying with the edge of his bread bowl, trying to pretend it's half as good as the one he could have made. I smirk at him as he takes a bite, his expression thoughtful. We're at the café at the end of our street after enjoying one of the last days of the farmer's market. I've decided to go hunting later in the woods outside of town, but Peeta insisted I eat something warm first. So, we're at our knock-off Panera with bread bowls full of soup. Peeta hasn't stopped judging the meal since we sat down.

"What would you do differently?"

He smirks, realizing I'm indulging him. The one time I tried to help him bake my bread turned out flat, grainy, and burnt. I have no business in a kitchen and he knows it.

He loves me, flaws included.

"Let it rise longer. The longer it rises…good bread takes time," he says, his blue eyes bright. They suddenly get a mischievous glint as he impersonates a valley girl, and horribly if I might add. "I know that like…when I let my bread rise for half an hour, it's just blah. But like….an hour….oh-em-gee."

I roll my eyes and spoon another mouthful of soup. He's passionate about his cooking, and that's another thing I love about him. Small things make him happy.

"If you roll them that far they might get stuck," he says, picking up his spoon and diving into his broccoli cheddar.

I burst out laughing at his comment, earning us a few glares from the people around us. He wipes some stray soup from my chin with a chuckle and shifts in his chair. "You're ridiculous, you know that right?"

I nod. "It's what you love about me," I state matter of factly. He nods good naturedly and returns to his soup. We eat in compatible silence for a few more minutes when I notice him glancing repeatedly at behind me. I turn and glance over my shoulder but don't notice anything in particular. After a few more bites, he does it again. This time, he offers a small smile. Annoyed, I glance again.

Oh. That was it.

A toddler sits in a high chair, pulled up against the table. It's playing absently with the cheerios or whatever it is small children eat as his parents yammer on behind us. I watch as whatever cereal it's eating is effectively smashed against its tiny palm with a giggle. Peeta smiles again and the baby laughs louder at the attention it has gained.

"How do you get everyone to like you?" I tease.

He grins into his soup but says nothing. I huff.

"That thing doesn't even speak yet and it likes you. I can't even blame it on your way with words."

"Katniss, it's a baby. Not a thing – a baby."

I glance behind me once more and try not to cringe.

Peeta looks up, shrugging at me with a tiny smirk before glancing at his number one fan behind me. I hear another delighted squeal and wince. I knew this was coming. Someone as genetically gifted as Peeta would surely want to procreate. My husband was somewhat tall, blonde, blue eyed and handsome. He had a jaw that sparked fantasies, forearms that made me squirm in my chair, the shoulders of a Greek God, and perfectly tousled blonde curls that managed to always look like sex hair.

Everything about him screamed that he would make cute kids, and any other girl would be falling over herself at the chance.

In fact, women often did fall all over my husband, but he was as faithful as a golden retriever and I never worried. So what was I afraid of, I asked myself. Everyone wanted kids. As his wife, that was my duty, right? What was stopping me? I wasn't afraid of childbirth, or even that we couldn't afford it.

I looked down into my soup and stirred it slowly, my answer practically staring me in the face.

I was afraid I wouldn't be good at being a mother.

What if my child didn't like me? Sure I had helped raise my little sister, but that was different. She had depended on me for food. I swallowed thickly and pushed myself to think of something else. I didn't want to think about Prim right now. It was still too much for me sometimes. Instead, I let my mind wander to what a child of mine and Peeta's would look like. Would it have golden blonde hair and grey eyes? Or maybe a blue eyed, dark haired child?

Peeta seemed to read my worried expression. "Katniss," he said softly, reaching across the table. He hook one of my hands in his and I was suddenly unable to hold it or even look at him.

"Sorry," I muttered, wiping my hands off. I took a sip of my drink and tried to avoid his gaze.

Children loved Peeta, and Peeta loved children. Would my own child, were we to have one, be any different? Maybe if it was half Peeta it would like me. Peeta sure liked me. For some reason.

"I'm sorry too. I just…like them."

I smiled wryly. They liked him too. More than once a baby or toddler or other small 'thing' had instantly liked my husband. The tooth-less baby in the cart in front of us in the checkout line, the lost kid at the park….they were drawn to his happy face and kind smile like magnets. I knew it was something he wanted deep down, and I knew I didn't want to deny him that.

I cleared my throat. "I'm not saying never. If we had a kid, it would be bound to like you, right?"

Peeta's eyebrows shook straight up his head at my answer. "Wha….you mean it?"

I looked down at my suddenly unappetizing soup and nodded. "Yeah. I mean…after Christmas, let's…let's try."

The look on his face was almost too much. I felt better about my words as he beamed, his large hand gripping mine across the tiny table. "Katniss…I…I'll ask you again after Christmas. This is…wow."

"It had better at least like you," I grumbled, pretending to scowl at him. "It can't hate both parents."

Peeta laughed and leaned back in his chair, his blue eyes shining. I felt a little less sick, but still anxious about my promise to start trying. But I had to have a point – if Peeta was around, the child would at least like him, right?

I thought about it later as I slammed the door to Peeta's truck, hoisting my bow up over my shoulder. I began the long trek into the woods, carefully locking Peeta's precious Chevy truck as I wound my way into the woods on the edge of town. We lived in a small suburb of Bristol, Tennessee, which was a large mining community. I swallowed back the bile just thinking about the industry that pushed our little town along. Every other man in the town worked in the mines. Every time I saw a man with coal dust under his fingernails it made me want to scream at him to quit his job and run away. It was no surprise why I was married to a baker. Cinnamon and sugar was much better to have under your husband's nails than coal dust.

I'd take sugar any day.

Glancing over my shoulder, my eyes could easily spot the large, rolling hills where the main mines sat. Hawthorne Industries had taken over almost every mine in an eighty mile radius within the last ten years alone. I shook my head and trekked forward, determined to catch at least something that night.

Most people worked out or read fiction to relax.

I hunted.

It was a skill my father had taught me as a girl and something I had never wanted to give up. My throat tightened for the second time that day as I forced myself to think of something else.

Not him.

I pause in the evening sunlight, surveying my surroundings. I'm not far from the lake, about a mile east. Peeta loves when I shoot squirrels, so that's what I'm here for today. The sun will set in about an hour, so I know I have to hurry. I don't usually come out this late, but we took longer at the deli than I thought we would after I had told Peeta we could try. I smiled at the thought.

I wanted to do this to make him happy.

I load an arrow into my bow and look around, letting my body fall still as I listen. There isn't much of a breeze today, which is perfect for squirrel hunting. They tend to stay in their nests when it's windy. The leaves rustle lightly, and I frown as I try to decipher the sounds around me.

I turn at the right moment and pull my arrow back and take aim. It flies through the air easily, hitting the small rodent in the neck. Not my best, but I'd take it. It falls to the ground with a soft thud and I'm satisfied. One or two more and we should have a good dinner. Of course we don't need to use my hunting skills as a means to feed ourselves, but not buying bread or meat definitely helps with the bills. My two part time jobs certainly don't get me far – one as a waitress in a downtown pub, and the other teaching archery at the local country club. But paired with Peeta's work as a bakery owner we do alright.

I'm halfway through cleaning my kill, chastising my shot when I hear it.

A few short yips, the sound of feet, and panting. It's enough to make me mutter 'shit' and sling my bow over my shoulder. I scramble up into the large oak tree just in time to see a pack of coyotes come sliding into the clearing where I had been seconds earlier. Alone, coyotes were nothing to worry about – however, in a pack they could be dangerous. We hadn't had much rain lately, so I knew their hunger might be more so the usual. It was times like now that they could be aggressive, so I didn't want to take my chances.

I scowled at the mangy animals as they fought each other for scraps of my squirrel. I hoped they wouldn't be long, but with the scent of fresh meat in the air the dense animals weren't showing signs of leaving anytime soon.

I'm safe in the tree a good twenty five feet in the air, but the dogs aren't leaving. It becomes clear I'm going to have to wait them out. With a sigh, I sit back against the bark and straddle a branch to wait. An hour passes, and it's dark out. Searching my pockets, I groan as I realize I've left my cell phone in the truck. I hate the thing, so I rarely use it.

Oh well…I hope Peeta won't worry.

Soon, the sound of the trees and the dim light lull me to sleep in the cool night air.

I only wake up for a second before I hit the ground.

Then, everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're confused, it's alright. More details about Prim, Gale, and everyone else will come up later in the story.
> 
> Thank you to Phantom Serenity for beta-ing!
> 
> If you haven't already, check out my blog for teasers and goodies for this story. Also, please add me on twitter and/or Tumblr in case this fic gets yanked - that way you'll know where to find me! : )
> 
> Please review! A ton of you added this to your favs/alerts list, I'd love to hear from you!


	4. Chapter 3: The Darkness

I open my eyes only to find that everything is fuzzy. My head feels like it's trapped in a vice and I hear myself moan. I'm jostled against the cold plastic where I lie, making a dizzying pain shoot up my spine.

Head, spine….these are all scary things to have hurting at the same time. I groan and try to lift my hand to check if I'm bleeding, but someone's cold hands straps it down, followed quickly by the other.

"Don't move miss, its best if you lay still. Don't move," a man tells me, shining a light in my eye.

I hear other voices around, shouting that someone is okay. My mind fights to stay coherent, but I can't remember anything.

Just blackness.

I try to move but quickly abandon that as I'm lifted into the air, the narrow plastic board creaking as people struggle to carry me. With every footstep my head and spine throb with a searing pain that makes me want to return to the black abyss. There are people talking all around still, but my mind won't work fast enough to hear or understand what they're saying. Bright lights shine through the darkness, and my bleary eyes can see that it's night. People move quickly around me as I fight to make sense of something.

"Is she alright? Did you-"

"Sir, we need you to step back and stay calm."

"Katniss! Oh my God, Katniss…"

A strangled voice cuts out above the others, desperate and pleading. My mind registers it, but that's all it can do. A hand takes mine and I can feel a breath. Then warm drops of water.

What?

My mind can't process any of it.

"Sir, you're going to have to step back. We need to get her out of the woods before the storm gets any worse. The chopper needs to get through."

I hear the leaves rustling above me, but I have no idea why I would be in the woods. For some reason, that doesn't seem right. Minus the splitting pain in my head and back, this feels like a dream. I hope I wake up soon.

Time passes as I fight to listen to what's going on around me for clues. So far, nothing makes any sense. Voices jumble together and I can't place their words. Frustration sets in.

"But I…she's…."

There's more jostling around me and more pain. Every touch is pain. Hot, blinding agony rips through my spine with every touch.

"Miss, can you hear me?"

I groan.

"Follow the light. She's not responding."

I close my eyes and fight back vomit.

"We need to get her out. Vitals aren't good, she needs medical attention NOW!"

Nothing made sense.

"We're going to airlift you up now. Just stay still."

I feel myself going up high…higher and higher…the cold wind bites at my cheeks, effectively numbing everything.

"Katniss!"

I hear the cry below, but for some reason it means nothing.

I hear the blackness calling, and this time I follow it. I do not return.

Darkness.

As far as I can see, it's black. I listen to my breathing and figure out that I'm in a small space. Reaching out, I touch the cool walls on either side of me and find I'm in a tunnel. I stumble forward, my breaths echoing against the walls. I see a light in the distance, but it feels very far away.

Bread.

I smell bread. Fresh baked. I trust the smell and move forward, my bare feet stumbling across the rocks. It gets lighter, and I figure it out. My fingers touch the coal dust and retract in disgust. The gritty, slick feeling burns my hands as if I'm suddenly allergic.

The mines.

I'm in the mines.

With a strangled cry I lunge forward towards the light, desperate to get away. I trip several times, but the smell of bread guides me towards the shimmering light at the end. I can hear their picks and shovels driving into the stone, echoing suddenly off the walls. They shake and groan in protest, threatening to collapse and I can feel my heart in my chest and-

I spill out into the bright light, falling onto the white carpet. My coal-dust covered hands strain the white material as I drag them back towards my body. I stand and gape, confused as I find myself in a white living room. I don't belong in this room, that I know. Chirpy violin music plays somewhere in the next room, and I can smell the scent of roses. It wasn't what I expected, and it makes my stomach churn.

The bread is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'll post again later tonight – I know this one was short and just a little dream, so I'll post a full chapter tonight.
> 
> A lot of you have asked how similar this will be to the book/movie 'The Vow' – the answer is not much. I really just liked the idea of Katniss waking up and not having a clue who Peeta was. Keep reading!
> 
> If you haven't already, please check out my other Katniss/Peeta fic - Cruel Summer.
> 
> Remember follow me on Twitter and Tumblr just in case! : )
> 
> Please review!


	5. Chapter 4: Wide Awake

Chapter 4: Wide Awake

Time eventually made sense. It passed.

The blackness faded, and soon I could see again. Something was up ahead, and I desperately wanted to find it. I followed the bright, leaving the mines behind in the darkness.

I resurfaced.

"She'll be waking up soon. Do you want me to call anyone?"

There was a silence, a few choppy breaths at my side, and then someone cleared their throat nervously.

"Um…no, we're fine. Thanks. Should I…"

"No. Just relax, Peeta. Everything will be alright. You've been waiting for this."

"I know I just…I've been so scared. It's been days since she…"

"I know. It'll be alright. These things take time. We've been watching her closely. We'll take care of her, I promise you that."

"Thank you. She's…she's everything."

I listened to the conversation around me, noticing the voices for the first time in….it felt like forever since I had heard anything or been consciously aware of anything, anyway. My head throbbed dully, making me wince. Its two males, talking. That much I know. My head throbs again.

Ow.

I'm in a bed. In a weird smelling room. With a flat pillow and a fuzzy blanket. Nothing feels like it should.

"Just no sudden movements. Or loud voices. She should be fine, just disoriented."

"Right," the other male voice says, moving closer. I hear heavy footsteps next to the bed I'm in.

Step, clunk. Step, clunk.

I scowl internally. Whoever it is could never be a hunter. It sounds as if he's using a cane. Huh.

I turn my head against the flat pillow and sigh. There's that weird smell again. Where am I? My back hurts and my head hurts. Why does everything hurt?

"I think she's…oh my God, Katniss?"

At the unfamiliar voice saying my name, I open my eyes. Things are blurry and bright, and it makes my eyes sting. I inhale sharply and blink, willing my eyes to focus. Slowly, two figures become clearer in front of me. An older man, who is dark skinned and in his thirties, and is dressed in doctor's scrubs at the end of the bed. The other is white, in his twenties, with bright blonde hair and bright blue eyes and is beside me.

This time I scowl for real.

I glance at the man at my side, then at the man at the foot of the bed. They're both looking at me like I'm going to explode.

"Katniss, you're in the hospital. You're going to be okay, you just had an accident. Everything is fine, so don't panic. You've been in a coma for a few weeks now, but you're recovering perfectly."

"I'm okay?" I croak.

"Yes, you're going to be perfectly fine. My name is Cinna. I'm the neurologist that is monitoring your progress. Disorientation and fogginess is normal at this point, so don't worry if you feel a little 'off'. Everyone heals at their own pace."

I calm at his words, but still end up frowning at him. So I'm supposed to be confused. Huh. Well, that makes me feel a little better. I still feel off, but his words did make enough sense to calm me. My eyes shift to the other man beside my bed and I stare at him for a few moments. He's dressed in a flannel shirt, a white t-shirt, and ragged looking sweatpants. He leans on a cane, and I'm guessing he was the one gimp leg that I heard earlier.

"Katniss? Are you alright?"

His voice is soft and pleading as he hovers slightly, and I don't understand his proximity. I understand why the head doctor is here, but why this guy?

"Katniss, can you talk?" he asks again.

My throat feels like I've been inhaling flames. Everything hurts and I'm sore all over, especially my back and my head. I stare at him. "My…head hurts. Can I get something for the pain?"

His face looks a little shocked, but he nods. I try to place it, but I can't. Judging by his clothes, I'm slowly becoming aware that he isn't a doctor. So why is he standing next to my bed, asking how I feel? Something is wrong.

"Don't be upset babe," he says softly, reaching over to touch my cheek. His warm hand burns against my skin, and I flinch.

This is getting weird. I'm to the point where I hope I'm on a lot of drugs.

He glances questioningly at the doctor, who nods at him. He mimics his short head bob and looks at me with pleading blue eyes.

"Katniss, it's me," he says gently. "I'm so glad you're awake. I love you so much."

His words are all jumbled up in my head and I can't make sense of them. "Do you know what's wrong with me?" I asked him.

Again, he looks at the doctor for help. I frown. He's definitely not a doctor. So what the hell is he doing in my hospital room?

"Katniss…"

He glances down, fists clenching slightly. This brings back a memory. It's fleeting, but it's something. I've seen this man before.

"I know you," I blurt out matter of factly. He looks up, fists unclenching and his eyes hopeful. Relief appears on his features then they become laced with worry.

"Wait, what? Katniss, do you know who I am?"

Seconds pass and my mind goes scarily blank. I panic and grip the sheets next to me. I feel like I should know this person, but I can't place him.

This is weird.

Too weird.

"Peeta, she might need a second. Let's step out. This is all very normal." The doctor, Cinna, seems to understand, and ushers him out of the room. The blonde haired man throws me a few pleading looks before exiting the room with Cinna, who claims I need sleep.

Fear shoots through me – what's going on? Why does nothing make sense? I feel like I'm suddenly in slow motion as the darkness threatens to return. I don't have time to panic before I'm giving in again.

I drift in and out for a few hours, unable to grasp a coherent through long enough to make sense of anything. The pounding in my head lessens; I guess they gave me something to calm me down and knock me out for a little while longer. When I wake the next time, I can see from the darkness of the solitary window that it's night. My eyes can't make sense of the clock on the wall directly across the room, but judging by how quiet things are I'm guessing its late evening. The door to the room is open, and I hear the faint 'ding' of an elevator. I sit up slightly, trying to make sense of things. Memories are fuzzy and weirdly shiny when I try to think of where I was before here.

It hurts to think.

A soft snore cuts through the quiet, and I jump as I notice someone in the chair next to the bed. He's still dressed in the flannel and ratty sweatpants, slumped over on his arm. He's snoring softly, his breathing low and rhythmic.

But who is he?

I stare at the blonde haired man for a few minutes as he softly snores away. I notice his left leg is in a plastic cast. He must have sprained it somehow. I blink a few times and focus on his face. I know that face.

But how?

Suddenly, it hits me. I sit up a little more to get a better look, careful to be quiet and not hurt my back. Flashes come to me, and I feel a little better as I summon up a fuzzy memory of him in a flour covered apron behind the counter at the local bakery. Of course! I'd been there dozens of times.

What was it called? M….Mayor…Moredock…Mellark…Mellark! I smile to myself for the small victory of remembering something and I feel a little better.

Until I realize that I have no idea why the baker is sitting in my hospital room. He shifts in the uncomfortable looking chair, the cheap pleather groaning in protest. His eyes open groggily, blinking several times before they focus on me, sitting up in the bed. He smiles softly and gives me a happy smile.

"Hey you. I have to let the nurse know you're awake. Cinna went home, but he'll be back in the morning to do an MRI. I'll be right back?"

I nod and try not to be alarmed. Even if he is a stranger, he seems like a nice stranger.

He chokes up slightly, his pretty blue eyes wide and glassy. "It's…so good to see you," he replied, his voice cracking slightly. "It's okay babe, it's all going to be alright." I watch as he grabs his cane and gimps out of the room, only to return with the same nurse from earlier.

"Katniss, do you know where you are?"

I nod.

"Do you have any pain?"

I shake my head. I have some, but I'll deal with that later. My mind is busy trying to form intelligent questions.

"You fell out of a pretty tall tree and hit your head and upper spine. We've kept you in a coma to reduce the swelling in your brain. You had some cuts and scrapes, but you're healing normally, so there's nothing to worry about. You just need rest. Can I get you anything?"

Nothing comes to mind. I glance at the man at the end of the bed, who is currently giving me a hopeful smile. His blue eyes shine with unshed tears, and I almost feel guilty for the words I'm about to speak.

"Who are you?"

My words seem to cut him somehow. He balks, the blue orbs going suddenly wide before darting meet the nurses'. She opens her mouth to speak, but shuts it and pauses.

"Katniss…what do you remember?"

I find myself scowling as I try to think. My head starts to throb dully, but my determination wins out. I search my mind full of fuzzy memories, but nothing sticks out. I remember being in the dark and not being able to move. I was afraid of something, but what?

"Katniss…you know who I am, right?" he asks, his voice soft.

I stare at him, grasping at any shred of hope that my memory will come through for me.

Nothing.

"I…I don't know. Where's…." I try to ask for someone, but no one comes to mind. I see a blonde girl in my memory, and there's a strange yellow flower attached to the name. I struggle to think of anything else.

"Katniss, Peeta is right here. He's been waiting very patiently for you to wake up."

"I don't know him!" I snap, growing more panicky.

"Katniss, please calm down."

I jerk my head up, searching her face. She nods at me encouragingly and I quickly grow frustrated. My eyes shift to meet his, and once again I blurt out something I'm guessing I'm not supposed to.

"Why is the baker in my hospital room?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Phantom Serenity for her beta skills. I'll be updating Cruel Summer tomorrow, for those of you who read that fic.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the update! I'm working really hard on this story, so I hope you are all enjoying it. Links to my Tumblr, Twitter, and Blog are on my profile page.
> 
> Please review!


	6. Answers

Silence rings in the air. The only noise is the elevator in the hall, some shuffling papers at the nurse's station outside the door, and the beep of the machine next to me. The blue eyed man simply stares at me with his mouth open. I feel my face grow hot as he gapes at me, his eyes wide and pleading. I've obviously done something wrong, but I don't get what it is.

"Did I say something….bad?"

The dark-skinned doctor moves to my bedside, his striking eyes full of gentle concern. "No, Katniss…it's just that…Peeta, the baker…" he trails off, looking at him for help.

The fair-skinned, blonde man beside me sucks in a sharp breath. I look at him questioningly, suddenly feeling very uneasy. His eyes close momentarily and I can see him blinking back tears. My heart goes out to him, but…I have no idea what to say. Judging by the look on his face, I've said something very hurtful. He finally speaks, his voice gentle and low.

"Katniss…do you know who I am?"

I nod. "The baker. M…Mellark?"

"Right…."

There's a pregnant pause in the room.

"You…work at the bakery in town. Right?"

"Right. But…Katniss…"

"We know each other?"

His blonde eyebrows shot up his forehead. "Katniss, I'm Peeta. Peeta Mellark. I'm your husband."

Now it's my turn to gape. "Um….what?"

He nods. "I'm your husband."

"I'm….you….we're married?"

"Yes, we are."

"You're serious?"

He nods, a shiny tear escaping and sliding down his cheek. He hastily wipes it away, turning away from me. I look at the doctor with wild eyes as my throat tightens.

I'm…married?

To the baker?

My head throbbed painfully once again as I tried to remember something, anything that made sense to me. Nothing did. I couldn't remember ever seeing this man anywhere else but the bakery. I look down at my left hand, the cool gold metal suddenly burning against my skin. I hadn't noticed it earlier, but it's the only thing I can feel now. With deep breath, I raise my hand up and glance at the band on my finger. That band only means one thing. How on earth…?

"Is this a sick joke?" I asked, my voice cracking slightly. My throat gets even tighter, and I feel tears start to form in my eyes. I've never felt so lost in my life – suddenly, I can't even think straight.

"No, this is no joke," Cinna says. "Katniss, you are married to Peeta. I assure you this is the truth." He turns to Peeta. "I'll leave you alone. Katniss….you need to rest soon. You're quite safe with Peeta."

I nod, trying not to cry. The man in front of me looks anything but dangerous, but I'm still not sure if I want to talk to him. The doctor leaves and he's at my beside in milliseconds. He nearly trips over his cast, but steadies himself on the bed. "Katniss…it's me…I….it's me."

"I don't know you," I snap, brushing tears away from my eyes. I lean away from his hand as it reaches for me, causing another hurt expression to flash in front of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just…Katniss, I…"

"I don't….I don't understand. Why don't I know you?"

He sucked in another breath, backing away slowly. "Your head…when you hit your head you must have…"

"We're really married?"

He's silent as tears stream down his cheeks. "Katniss I swear this is the truth. We're married, we….we have been for a year, how could you not…"

He trails off, wiping his eyes with the palm of his hands. I watch him carefully as he takes a few deep breaths and tries to regain control of himself. "I…I'm sorry, this must be so much…I'm sorry. I've been waiting so long for you to wake up that I just…this is a lot."

"Same here," I said quietly.

He looked up at me with his red-rimmed eyes and sniffed. "I must be freaking you out, right?"

I nodded. "Honestly, a little."

He smiles sadly, sniffing again. "Oh Katniss…so honest. So brutally honest."

"Look, I'm sorry I don't remember…I'm sorry," I croak. He wipes his eyes again and stares at me as he grasps his knees.

"Don't worry about me, okay? I'm fine. The important thing is that you're physically fine too. We'll…we'll figure this out, okay? We'll figure it out together, just like we always do. Everything will be okay. Just…just rest, and…maybe you'll feel better in the morning. I'll be right here. I won't leave, okay?"

I nod, and that seems to pacify him. He sits on the chair beside me and sighs, reaching into his pocket for his phone. I see him type a message, then slip it back into his pocket before glancing at me. "I swear, Katniss. We're married and you're going to remember, and everything is gonna be alright, okay?"

"I just want to sleep," I say rudely, cringing slightly at the tone of my voice. I don't mean to be cruel to this doe-eyed stranger, but I'm tired and my head is killing me at this point.

It doesn't take long before I drift off, this time into a dreamless slumber. I wake several hours later, and the room is dark. I guess it's maybe early morning, yet not quite dawn. The chair next to me is empty, and I sit up in bed and frown. Then I hear the voices. I immediately recognize the soft spoken head doctor, Cinna, and Peeta. He sounds upset.

"You said she would be fine."

"Peeta, every head injury has to be dealt with differently. None of them are the same, and none of them heal the same."

"But you said-….you said…."

"Her injuries were severe, Peeta. Her brain could still be swollen, causing disorientation of certain areas. We have no way of knowing everything."

"She doesn't know me. She had no clue who I was. I haven't worked at that bakery for over a year."

"Mr. Mellark, I assure you this is quite common. She suffered quite a blow to the head when she fell. She's lucky she can still use her legs."

I gasp quietly and quickly wiggle my toes under the blanket. Whew! They still work. I eavesdrop some more, eager for answers.

"An injury like hers can cause some impairment."

"Impairment? My own wife has no clue who I am."

"Peeta, we have to give her time. This could take a while to repair."

"But I'm her husband! We've been married for over a year. How can she have no idea who I am?"

"A brain injury isn't like a broken bone. No injury heals the same way every time; she might take days or even months to regain total use of her mind. This is normal."

"Normal for something that isn't ordinary?" he snaps. I hear him sigh heavily.

"Just give her time."

There's silence for a little while, and for a moment I think they've gone too far down the hall for me to hear anything. Then I hear a sniffle and a choked cough. "I just….all this time, not knowing if she was gonna be okay just killed me. Before her, I….we make each other. I'm….I'm happy she's okay, but…seriously doc, how can she not know who I am?"

"Peeta,-"

"She's my life."

The conversation lulls after that. Cinna tells Peeta to go home and get some rest, and he reluctantly agrees. I quickly lie back against the pillows when he comes into the room, pretending to be asleep. I hear him gimp to the side of the bed and quietly stand there for a few moments, his breathing still choppy.

I squeeze my eyes closed tighter and will myself not to move.

Slowly, he reaches out and touches my hand. His are surprisingly warm against my own cool skin, and I feel goose bumps start to pop up where he touches.

"I love you, Katniss. So…so much. Come back to me," he says quietly.

And then he leaves. I sit up in bed and think for a long time after that. I watch the sun rise about an hour later, and try to eat the horrid oatmeal they bring me for breakfast. It makes my stomach turn, but I want to be rid of my stupid I.V. as quickly as possible. When the nurse comes in, I urgently ask for the head doctor. She gently corrects me with 'neurologist', and I don't return her smile.

He glides in, eyeing me with his jewel-toned hazel eyes. His dark skin seems to glow in the dim light of the early morning, and I find myself calmed by his presence. Maybe this will be someone who I can trust to give me some answers.

"Hi."

"Good morning," he greets, his voice low and even. "Are you feeling better Katniss?"

"If I felt better I'd know who the hell I am."

"Well, I have the morning free if you'd like to talk. Peeta went home to get some rest."

"Good. That's what I would like to talk about."

I want answers, and I want them soon.


	7. Coming Around

The doctor looks at me calmly, and for the first time since waking up, I feel calm as well. Something about his striking gaze makes him appear so utterly trusting that it shakes me for a second before he speaks. His voice is calm and even, and I find that even the smallest things help me right now.

"I'll tell you anything you want to know, Katniss."

I swallow and gulp back my fear. The look in the baker's eyes as he realized I didn't know who he was made my heart break. I didn't even know him – or know if I knew him – and he could do that with just one look from his big blue eyes. I wanted to remember him. You didn't look at people like the way he had me if you didn't feel something for them, right? I would try to remember – if not for me, then for the blonde haired stranger who had looked so desperate.

"Okay," I reply shakily. "For starters, what happened to me?"

Cinna smiles wryly. "We think you climbed a tree to escape a wild animal of some sort. Based on your fall, you were pretty high up."

"That doesn't surprise me. I'm good at climbing trees," I admit. "That's not a first."

"Well, that was what we surmised from the situation. Do you spend a lot of time in the woods?"

I nod. "My dad taught me how to hunt. I...go every few weeks for fun. It um…relaxes me."

His dark eyebrows raised in interest. "Do you remember climbing the tree?"

I shake my head. That I don't remember at all. The fact that I had climbed a tree doesn't shock me at all – I can remember climbing them from a young age. The facts I can and can't remember at the moment are starting to give me another headache.

"Well," he continues, "for some reason or another you fell. And from quite high, I might add. You landed on your upper back and hit your head very hard. It knocked you out and left some bruising on your brain. I put you into a temporary coma to ease the strain on your body."

I look up at him, searching his face for any sign of anything negative. I don't like being confused.

"Is that why I don't remember anything?"

He bobs his head once, his prominent hazel eyes watching my reactions. He looks out of place in his wrinkled scrubs. I feel like he should be shirtless and wearing a leather vest and ripped up jeans. I try to keep my calm.

"It could be. Your body could still be in a little bit of shock. Dimming or wiping out your memory could be its way of protecting and healing itself."

"I'm only a little sore though. I'm healed. So...why, if I'm married, do I not recognize my own husband?"

"It's common. We believe what you have is called Transient Global Amnesia, which would make sense. You show no signs of any damage or impaired cognitive functioning. Another symptom is those who suffer from it can only remember deeply encoded facts. That's why I think you can't remember Peeta. He says the two of you have only been close for a little over year and a half and married for one. That's not long enough that you would remember him at this point."

I try not to panic. "But...he's shown you proof that we're married?"

Cinna nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, he has. Documentation and otherwise. He was able to provide legal documents, a marriage certificate, and photos. He also erm….knew about the birthmark."

I blushed, knowing exactly what Cinna was referring to. I had a small, tan birthmark the size of a dime on the inside of my thigh, back towards where my leg curved toward my butt cheek. It was hidden by shorts, but noticeable….if you knew me well.

I looked down at my hands suddenly overwhelmed.

Cinna leaned over the side of the bed and spoke in his soft, even tone. "He's been extremely worried about you Katniss. He was the one that found you in the woods. I wouldn't lie to you. He's been beside himself while he waited for you to wake up."

I sit back in the bed and frown. If he was there in the woods...I must know him, right? Taking a deep breath, I force my already tired mind to think. I know who I am: I'm Katniss Everdeen. I live in Tennessee. I am...how old am I? Numbers seem harder to make sense of. I remember turning twenty one...Gale took me out for my birthday and I got sick on Jager bombs. Wait! Gale!

"Where's Gale?" I ask suddenly, sitting up in bed. I'm so excited that something has rung a bell that I barely register the sharp pains shooting up my still sore back. My heart beats wildly as I finally remember something. Cinna looks at me with a confused gaze.

"Who is Gale? Is this a brother or friend?"

"No he's…" I trail off, unsure of what else to say. The spark of a memory I have of Gale does nothing but confuse me because the thing I remember…I glance down at my left hand and spot the alien looking gold band again. It seems odd and out of place. I remember something else….

I gulp. "I think he's my fiancé."

Cinna's dark eyebrows rise slightly. "Your what?"

I sit back against the flattened pillows, realizing my hair is in a lopsided, matted braid. Someone must have attempted to do that for me. I twist the end absently, biting the corner of my lip until it hurts. This is all so confusing it makes me want to scream. So many flashes of things that didn't make sense were flying around in my head. I felt like I was trying to nail Jell-O to a tree.

"I remember Gale. I was…engaged to him. That's what I remember."

Cinna stares at me, nodding slowly as if he could sense my growing frustration. "This is all okay Katniss. Everything will likely come back to you one piece at a time."

"But what if it doesn't?"

He stares at me, his kind eyes searching mine. "You'll see," he says softly. "Just rest. Rest is the best thing you can do for now. Think about things, but don't try to confuse yourself. We can talk later."

I nod my head and watch him leave, my mind still swimming with questions. I sit in the hospital bed and doze for a few hours, watching the light fill the room. It's raining out, and I'm fine with that. It fits my mood.

After giving up on sleep, a nurse comes in and offers to take me off of the IV since I can eat solid foods, and I readily agree. I'm free of hooks and wires and am finally able to get into a shower. It's not what I'm used to, I think as I scrub the dirt and oil out of my hair. I stop. What am I used to? My head throbs in response. After my shower, I sit in the chair beside my bed and try to comb the mats and snarls out of my hair and make sense of things.

I remember some things.

I remember the house that I grew up in, my sister Prim, and of course my mother. But what about my father? I can still picture him singing and playing with us in the backyard. I remember him leaving to work in the mines every day, and walking to the bus with Prim. I remember graduating high school and hunting with Gale…

Gale.

I look down at my left hand yet again and stare the thin gold band that encircles it. Funny…I could have sworn I had a diamond. A big diamond. Not that I was a fan of things like that, but…the memory seems so real. I know I was engaged to Gale.

I know it.

But then why am I married to Peeta?

More importantly, why do I not remember Peeta?

I give up when my hair is messily braided down the back. Cinna is my doctor, and he seems like he knows what he's talking about. Maybe he's right – things will come back in pieces and I just have to be patient. With a groan, I climb back into bed with a grunt. Around ten the door slowly opens. I hear the thud of Peeta's cane, and I sit up and pull my hair around to the front, smoothing the wild sides back. I don't remember my hair being so frizzy and out of control, but that's the least of my worries right now. With a sigh, I try to greet him with anything but a scowl.

He doesn't end up looking any more familiar that he did the night before. His hair is messy and unkempt, he needs a shave, and yet his charming blue eyes look up at me with hope through their sadness.

I'm pretty sure I end up scowling again.

"Hey," he breathes, a bright smile breaking through his worrisome gaze. "You're up!"

"Yeah, I'm up," I reply nervously, playing with the end of my braid.

"Feeling any better?"

I know this is code for, "Do you remember who the fuck I am yet?"

I force a smile and nod. "I feel alright, just…not myself yet."

"Ah, I see," he answers, limping over. "It's alright. Cinna said these things can take time."

I snort. "Well, I'm not sure how much longer I want to do this. It's tiring not knowing who the hell you are….erm, me, not you."

He chuckles darkly. "Well…you don't know who the hell I am. We know that part."

"And I'm sorry about that, I really am. I've tried to do a lot of thinking while you were gone and…I guess I haven't come up with much," I admit in a raspy whisper. My throat tightens and I fight back tears as he stands at the end of the bed. His blue eyes drop to my feet and he sighs.

"Don't worry about me, Katniss. Just worry about getting better."

"Are you always this selfless?"

He looks up with surprise, the corner of his mouth rising up slightly. "I guess."

Another awkward silence settles between us, but I battle it the best I can.

"Would you mind if I just asked you some questions?"

He pauses at the end of the bed, looking at me expectantly but doesn't miss a beat. "Yeah, sure, I mean….ask away. Yeah."

I find his nervousness endearing. His hands shake a little as he moves, glancing at me quickly and giving a weak smile. He's cute, actually. Really cute. I swallow nervously. It doesn't make sense that I've gone for such a pretty-boy. Gale was rugged, tall, dark, the works. But Peeta was almost the exact opposite of what I usually went for in a guy. The night and day appearance of the two was baffling, but I must have seen something in him to marry him, right?

He's not what I would usually go for, but he's still easy on the eyes.

He hobbles over, plopping down in the chair next to the bed again with a thump. He hands me a bag and smiles even brighter.

"Brought you some clothes," he offers. I accept the bag and try to return his smile.

"Um, thank you. Where did you…?"

The smile falters. "Oh um…our house."

"We have a house?"

He shrugs, pausing slightly. "Well…it's not a house really. More like…loft kinda. We live in an old restored warehouse above my bakery."

"You have your own bakery? That's…cool," I say honestly.

"Yeah, um…you actually convinced me to do it. My dad retired and ah…I inherited everything from him. We just had to buy the building and hope people would come."

"Do they?" I ask.

He bobs his head. "Oh yeah. In drones."

"I…kind of remember your dad's bakery, going there. I used to walk my little sister by the windows and look at all the cakes and cookies."

"Yeah," he smiles, "You remember that? That's awesome."

"Yeah," I agree. "I mean, it's not much but…it's something, right? I…it's a blurry memory. Everything's blurry right now….but I do. I remember walking by and seeing the pretty cakes with flowers and designs."

Peeta grins, leaning back in the chair. "Well uh….I used to decorate them."

"Really?"

"Really. None of my older brothers would do it…said it was too girly. I liked it though, it was close to drawing so I was good with it."

"You draw?"

"I try. Yeah….I draw and you hunt. We make it work somehow."

"That's good, I guess. So…we live together and we're married."

"That's what they say," he jokes.

I try to laugh, but it's almost too much. Sitting back, I look at him for the first time since waking up – really look at him. He's not tall, but not short. His blonde hair is wavy in places, a mixture of sticking up spots or hanging in his eyes. His eyes. I feel my heart flutter a little. I never was one for the blonde haired, blue eyed type but damn. This kid has a pair of big, doe-like eyes that could help him sell ice to an Eskimo. He was built solid – muscular arms and what looked like muscular legs, so I'm guessing he did physical labor in this bakery of his. He probably had a few extra pounds on him, but that only made his face a little rounder and more likeable.

Okay, so I guess in a way I understood why I married him. He definitely left nothing to want for in the looks department.

For the first time since waking up, I found myself desperately wanting to remember Peeta Mellark, and not just for him.

But for myself as well.


	8. Questions

Peeta doesn't seem ready to leave me just yet, so I continue to throw question after question at him. We've been sitting in my hospital room, just chatting casually for the past hour. Most of it is small talk, but it's comforting. Honestly, I'm a little thrown off by how comfortable he's made me in what little time I've known him. He's leaning back in the chair, his good leg propped up on the end of my bed like he does it every day. I'm sitting cross legged in the bed, watching his blue-eyed gaze as he answers.

"So….we're married, and….do we have kids?" I suddenly asked. Crap, if I have a kid somewhere that I haven't seen in weeks…I'm sure that puts me under the category of 'bad mom'.

Peeta laughs and lightly slaps his good leg. "No! No, we don't have kids yet."

"Yet?"

He raises his eyebrows, suddenly a little panicked. "Oh, um….we've talked about it, but….not yet, erm…"

Judging by the look on his face, I've asked him something a little too personal. I lean back in the bed, another thought striking me. Maybe it's not too personal for him – maybe it is for me. I realize suddenly that perhaps he's holding back too much information for fear of scaring me off.

Peeta Mellark is very smart.

"So your business is popular? Do we live well?"

"Um," he coughs, "Yeah. I mean….we have a lot of new customers, but a lot of regulars too. Our neighbor, Haymitch comes in every day. You like him."

"Oh, what's he like?"

Peeta's face falls a little as he realizes I have no idea who this Haymitch person is.

"He um…he's an alcoholic that lives in the loft next to us, he….you take care of him sometimes when he's had too much. We both kinda baby him. He doesn't have anyone else though."

That doesn't sound like me, but I nod anyway. "Okay. So….but you bake? That's really cool. I….I have flashes of coming into your father's bakery when I was a kid."

He nods. "I remember. You would come in with your dad and he'd buy you sugar cookies that my dad had iced. I still make them if you ever want one, by the way."

I laugh at that. "Well, a cookie does sound kinda good," I admit. "I wish I could remember my dad more."

"We have pictures back at the apartment. I'll get them out and show you," he offers. "He was really nice. He would always leave quarters for me in our tip jar on the counter. I kinda remember him, he was a good guy, Katniss."

I sigh and lean back slightly as tears prick my eyes. Okay, new subject.

"So um…what did you do to your leg?"

I watch as he leans back, tapping the can against his plastic cast. It's covered by loose fitting jeans today, but I can still see his sock poking out of the boot.

"I um…it happened the night you…"

"How long ago was that?"

"A little over two weeks."

I sit back and let my jaw fall open. "OH gosh…that long? I….I feel bad. You must have been worried about me."

He chews the insides of his cheek and nods. "Yeah, I…I was. But…you're here now, and almost all better."

There's a long silence before I find my voice again. I don't feel like I'll ever get better, to be honest. I feel like I'm going backwards – the more I learn about my new life, the more frustrated I get. It just feels like it's so far away.

"Doesn't feel like it," I reply wryly.

He is silent for a moment before continuing on. "Well the night you…went hunting and didn't come home I panicked. You never stayed out much past dark, so I thought the worst. I mean…you're tough and all, so I wasn't really worried until the storm started rolling in. There had been a draught all summer, and everyone was worried about flash floods. Anyway, we….we got together some people and got the local forest rangers involved and…I was running," he sighs, running his hands down the tops of his thighs. "I was running and not paying attention because they thought you were nearby, and I just…fell in a hole."

I laugh softly. "A hole?"

He snorts. "Yeah, just like…a gopher hole or something. Tore like three ligaments in my knee. Had surgery a few days later, but I'll be good as new. Just ditched the crutches for the cane the day before you woke up."

His cheeks turned a little bit red as he spoke, and I found his slight embarrassment endearing. He looked at the floor and bit his lip again. I found myself smiling.

"Wow…maybe just tell people you fell out of the tree with me."

Peeta chuckles. "Yeah, I know right? Dumb. But I did find you, and then they airlifted you into the helicopter. Jesus, I was so scared," he whispers, lifting his hand up. He yanks it through his already tousled hair, and I start to understand why his hair is such a mess.

"Peeta…"

"I just….it's hard…to have you not remember me, you know? But…compared to the terrifying things my mind pictured that night, of…of what could possibly be wrong with you…a bump on the head is nothing. I was so scared that you had…" he sighs deeply, chewing his bottom lip. "I pictured some bad stuff. But you're here, and you're fine. You temporarily forgot about me. That's a cakewalk compared to what I had conjured up in my stupid head."

My heart goes out to him as I struggle to find the right words. Funny, feels like that's all I ever do anymore. Nothing seems right – this boy with the bread had a way with words that makes me feel like a bumbling idiot, but it's so endearing it makes my chest ache.

"Look," I start softly, "you seem really nice. I feel terrible I made you…worry. I wish I remembered you, I really do."

He shook his head. "You're the one apologizing? Crazy, Katniss."

"Why?"

"It's just so you to apologize to me for something not even remotely your fault. You fell out of a tree and wake up and there's this…guy you don't even know telling you he's your husband and how much he loves you. You must have thought I was a crazy person standing here when you woke up. This isn't your fault, I…I've always been too sensitive for my own good I guess."

I shrugged. I might not remember Peeta, but I did know enough about myself (or what I could remember) to know that sensitivity and warm feelings weren't exactly my forte. That I did know. However, his teary eyes and professions of love weren't something I was going to hold against him. I had always secretly thought being a tad more (okay, a LOT more) sensitive would be nice, but it always seemed silly to me. I had other things to worry about growing up, so it never dawned on me to work on that part of myself.

"Sensitivity isn't a fault. Or a character flaw."

He snorted. "Usually it is. And I know you well enough to know that you think I'm being silly."

I felt a small smile creep up onto my face. He did know me.

Huh.

Up until now, I wasn't sure who to believe about this whole 'you're married to me' bit. But in the few words I had shared with him, Peeta had already demonstrated to me that he did in fact, know me.

"You're not silly. I need to be more like you."

He smiles sadly. "You say that all the time. And I tell you you're crazy. You're one of the strongest people I know, Katniss. You're going to get through this, I….I just know it."

"I wish I was as confident as you."

"You'd normally call me a fool."

We share a tiny smile and know he's right.

We continued to talk for a few more minutes, Peeta telling me bits and pieces about my life, but so far nothing in the past few years seemed to ring any bells. In the end I felt frustrated and useless. He stood up when he saw me start to nod off, leaning heavily on his cane. He moved like he was going to hug or kiss me, but abruptly stopped himself as an apology flashed in his eyes. He mumbled something about 'habit' and offered me a weak wave before leaving to go to work for a few hours.

"Bye Peeta," I offered sadly. He gave me a tight smile before hobbling out.

I was strangely sad to see him leave.

Heaving a sigh, I leaned back in the hospital bed and closed my eyes. This didn't make any sense! I wanted to remember Peeta – he seemed kind and warm and everything I should want in a husband. So why couldn't I remember him?

A knock on the door startled me out of my deep thoughts. Seconds later it burst open and all I saw was a blur of bright blonde hair.

"Katniss!"

She was at me and hugging me in an instant. I sputtered and gasped, pulling back to look at her. "Prim?"

Her blue eyes widened in relief. "You remember me! Oh God, Katniss…you….you remember me!" she wailed, hugging me firmly once again.

I hugged her back for a few moments before pulling away. "Of course I remember you; you're my…wait, Prim…"

"Oh! Your remember me! I was so scared when they called me and told me about the accident Katniss I-" she babbled on, her words a jumbled mess in my mind as I struggled to keep up.

Wait…

Something wasn't right. My eyes did a quick scan of my little sister, quickly realizing she was not the girl I remembered. I remembered a gangly girl with two tight braids and a mouthful of metal that my father's life insurance had paid for after he died.

I pause, the memory that escaped me earlier coming back with a rush of emotion. The events in my mind were all jumbled and out of order, and it was hard to tell what was real and not real. My head throbbed as I realized something about my father.

He was dead.

My dad was dead.

But how?

I swallowed back my sadness and looked up at Prim, who still hovered at my bedside. A quick glance at her confirmed that I was having trouble remembering more than just Peeta. Prim looked as if she had aged five years. In a teenager's place was this gazelle-like blonde woman with long, wavy hair and skin that glowed like the sun.

"Prim…" I stuttered, my eyes wide. She read them easily, sensing my unease.

"Katniss….I'm so glad you're talking to me," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. I frowned and scanned my memory, but drew nothing.

"What…?"

"I'm just so glad you're okay…the nurses called me this morning, and said that you were alright and that your husband was here…Katniss, I didn't even know you were married!" she chides softly, plopping down on the bed side me. I scoot over, my head reeling.

"You…you didn't?"

"No," she replies sadly. "I um…after I moved out I guess…No," she replies sadly. "I um…after I moved out I guess…you were too upset with me."

"Prim….moved…moved where?"

She gives me a sheepish look and holds up her left hand. I blink several times to keep my eyes from crossing at the sheer size of the diamond on her ring finger.

"What," I choke, "is that?"

Another sheepish look, followed by a hard swallow.

"It's um….I'm engaged."

This is too much for me, and I'm quickly falling behind.

"To who?"

She stares at me for a second, her long blonde waves perfectly framing her dumbstruck face.

"Katniss…I'm engaged to Rory Hawthorne."


	9. Hot Chocolate

Hours after my sister leaves, my head is still spinning.

Turns out we hadn't spoken in months. Over a year, in fact. Almost two years.

Prim was hesitant to give me many details, and my constant stream of questions made her a little flustered. Strangely enough, her newfound beauty had left her a little less sure of herself than she was when she was just the skinny girl in knee socks and braids.

My sister was different.

I could tell she didn't want to overwhelm me by telling me too much – her answers were stilted and guarded, her blue eyes reflecting turmoil as she sat perched on the side of the bed. When I asked her where our mom was, she had practically flown from the room. I thought back to our conversation and tried to piece everything together, but it was difficult. My head was throbbing from thinking and just trying so desperately to remember.

"Prim… Rory? As in…Gale's little brother Rory?"

She nodded. "So you do remember some things."

"Not everything," I had grumbled. "It's the big things that are escaping me. Like why I haven't seen you in so long."

Prim shifted on the end of the bed, her hand reaching up to play absently with the ends of her wavy, perfectly coiffed hair. She avoided my gaze and sighed, her eyes roaming around the dreary little hospital room.

"What are you thinking?" I demanded. I was getting tired of people avoiding my questions and averting my attention from the truth. I was tired of being confused.

"What do you remember about Gale?"

I blink. "Um…he was my…someone," I stutter, my mind betraying me once again. "Right?"

She bobs her head. "Go on."

The pit in the bottom of my stomach seems to go hollow for a second as I scan my mind. I remember having a diamond once – not the gold band I'm currently donning. Something was different….

"I…we were engaged?"

She bobs her head again. "Yes, you were. You were very much in love with Gale. I think you always sort of had been. You've known him since before I was born. Their family has been…very kind to us," she explained.

I leaned back in the bed and tried to summon up more, but failed.

"That's all I know. I know his family owns the mines…that explains the small one residing on your hand," I added with a small glance at her left hand, "and…dad works for them. Or…worked?"

Prim looked at the ugly tile floor and shifted again. "Worked, yes."

Then suddenly….I sat up in bed. I was seeing flashes now. Gale. On one knee….a big diamond. A southern style mansion on a hill. White…

"They live in a white house."

"Outside Nashville, in the mountains. By the lake," she adds.

I picture it in my mind. "You…you went there. To live. After…"

I'm drawing a blank, and Prim is looking nervous. I can tell I'm on the verge of remembering something, but can't.

"You went to live there after…shit, I…" I shake my head and silently fume. Why can't I remember anything important?"

"Katniss, maybe you should just relax and let it….maybe come back slowly. Don't push it. I'm just…happy you're alright and that you remember me and that….well, that' we're talking again."

I frowned. "Why were we not talking?"

Prim shrugged. "A lot of reasons."

"That's crap, Prim. We're sisters. Not even that, we were always close. I can't think of a reason that we wouldn't speak for almost two years. Something had to happen."

She shifted again and looked away. "Katniss, I….we can talk about this when you're feeling better, okay?"

"Where's mom?"

Things had ended abruptly after that. Prim had left quickly, politely saying she had plans for a late dinner. I hadn't believed her then, but if she was that eager to leave well…I couldn't stop her in my condition. She promised we would talk once I got out of the hospital in a few days, and I was holding her to it. I wanted answers, damn it. The nervous look on her face when I had asked about our mother spoke volumes. I wondered what it was that had happened, and searching my useless mind was doing nothing.

I had picked through my dinner with a disappointed gloomy feeling settling over me, and nothing I could do about it. My dinner is wheeled in and placed on the tray in front of me for every meal, but I don't have the stomach for it. Hospital food is the worst. It already looked half-digested and made me lose what little appetite I had.

As night fell on my second conscious day, I began to feel less frustrated but unfortunately, more lonely. Where was Peeta again?

I glanced down at the tray in front of me and let my eyes fall on the crusty roll that looked anything but appetizing.

Oh right, I thought. The bakery. He had apologized profusely for having to leave to do the schedules and pay the bills for the next week, but I had assured him it was fine. He did have a business to run apparently, and I felt bad that I was taking so much time away from it. However, I found myself hoping he would come back to the hospital that night to see me.

Don't be stupid, I chided myself. I didn't like this newer, needier, forgetful me. I wasn't the type of girl who sat around missing someone.

But strangely, I did.

I missed my husband.

Talk about weird. I glanced down at the little woven band on my left hand and sighed. I had to admit, I had never been one to like flashy things. It seemed fitting that I only had a gold band. I would have hated something like the rock Prim had. Which brought me to another strange memory; the diamond on my own hand. What was that about? I glanced down at my hand again and squinted. Yes, I definitely remembered having a large diamond. But why would Gale give me something like that? He knew I hated large, flashing things.

Tired of being left in the dark, I leaned to the drawer beside my bed and found a pen and a little pad of paper. I began to scribble down the facts; the clear things. Things I knew, things I could trust to be true.

I am Katniss Everdeen.

I am…twenty…something.

Shit, I thought. How old am I? Shaking my head, I moved on.

I like to hunt. Prim is my sister. She is engaged to Rory Hawthorne.

I was engaged to Gale Hawthorne, but I am not anymore. I had a big diamond.

I am married to Peeta Mellark.

He is a baker.

My head began to throb at that point as I struggled to remember more about Peeta. I just simply couldn't.

I dozed off around eight, frustrated that my eyes couldn't focus enough to read and TV gave me a headache to watch.

Had I known what was waiting for me in my dreams, I would have happily taken a headache.

My dreams were full of horrifyingly white rooms. They were decorated tastefully, but to me seemed like a padded white cell. All that was missing was my straightjacket. I wandered through one white room after another, the sickeningly sweet smell of roses burning my nose. I stumbled along blindly, my eyes having trouble in the blinding white light. I was looking for something, but for what? I heard someone calling my name…

"Katniss!"

I looked around, wincing at the light and the smell. My nose was starting to burn so much it bled. I gasped and held my hands to my face, cradling my throbbing nose only to pull them away and see blood. Lots of blood.

I gasped and wretched, watching as the dark droplets fell to the white carpet.

"Katniss!"

It was a man's voice, a mixture of my father and Gale.

Gale.

The blood hit the white carpet, only to morph into the blackness of the coal mines. I cried out and gasped as the walls began to quiver and shake. A deafening explosion shattered the walls, making me grasp my bloody head and hold it tight.

The mines would soon cave in and I would be buried alive.

"Katniss?"

The door to my room creaks open, waking me with a short gasp. Peeta's blonde head peeks around the privacy curtain with a hopeful gaze. I jerk awake and take a few panicky breaths. I wasn't in the mines. I touched my face, pulling back my hands to just see my pale skin. No blood.

"Can I come in? The nurse came and got me...she said you were restless. I was just out in the lobby catching the news. Didn't want to uh…wake you."

I sat up in the stiff bed, wincing as another sharp pain shot up my back. "Nightmare...actually," I answered slowly. I was hesitant to tell this stranger that I had been dreaming something awful, but... If he was supposedly my husband, what did I have to lose?

"Have you had a lot here?"

I nod, eying the cup in his hand. I don't miss the concerned look that flickers across his face.

"Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"No," I grit through my teeth, struggling to sit up. I must have been sleeping for a while – my back is stiffer than a board and feels like glass that's about to shatter. "No more nurses," I plead.

Peeta huffs quietly before setting down the items in his hands. He's at my side in an instant, one hand on my arm and the other around my back. He lifts me up slightly before helping ease me into an upright position as softly as possible. I exhale choppily, glad for the help.

"Um…thanks," I mutter as his hands are withdrawn. He nods and picks up what he brought with him.

"I brought you something from the cafeteria. The food they've been bringing up here is pretty crappy."

He limps back over to my bedside and places the cup on the table beside me, swinging it across the bed so I can reach it. His movements are slow and guarded, as if he's dealing with a wild animal that might bolt.

Funny, that's how I feel.

I pick up the cup and smile as the familiar smell of hot chocolate wafts into my nose. The scent seems to expel the scent of the imaginary roses from my senses, and for that I am grateful.

"I brought this too," he offers, placing an orange on the table next to it. I take a sip of the hot liquid and feel a smile creep hesitantly onto my face.

"Thank you. I um...hot chocolate is my favorite. And the orange, too."

He gives me a soft smile as he eases into the chair a few feet from the bed. He winces slightly as he gets comfortable, and then turns to give me a polite little smile. Would I have married someone so polite and cordial? That doesn't seem like me.

"It's weird, actually, I...I like the taste of the hot chocolate and orange. Two of my favorite foods," I offer, trying to sound thankful.

Peeta smiles again, chuckling to himself. He looks up at me, his blue eyes shining. "I know."

I stare at him in shock for a few moments.

"Oh um…of course you do. You're my…husband," I choke out. "I'm sorry for all of this," I quietly add.

"Stop apologizing, Katniss. I told you its fine."

"But it's not, Peeta. Here you are…a prisoner. You're shackled to some crazy woman who doesn't have the foggiest idea who you are. That must be….so hard."

"It's alright, Katniss. I'm not going anywhere. You've got me tied down," he jokes, giving me another warm smile that I don't quite feel like I deserve. I guiltily swallow back another gulp of hot chocolate and look away from his kind blue eyes. My eyes fall on his left hand, which is adorned with a gold ring that almost matches mine. The gold is woven in a little more masculine way, making it thicker and more solid. It's worn with wear but still shiny.

"So we match?" I ask after a few moments. He looks over at me, confused momentarily until I hold up my left hand.

"Yeah, um…sorry. I put your ring back on you while you were asleep. They took it off when you got here, and…I didn't want it to get lost," he explains. "If you…if you don't want to wear it right now I would understand. You can give it back to me. I'll….keep it safe."

I balk. Even if I don't remember bring married to him, I'm still not sure I want to take the pretty little ring off. "No, it's fine. I like it. A lot. It reminds me of…vines. Thank you," I add as an afterthought.

This makes him happy. He nods to himself and sits dutifully by my bedside for a few more minutes, making idle chatter. We make up a game where I think of my favorite things and make him guess.

He has yet to get one wrong.

"My favorite color?"

He grins. "Green. Dark green. Like the trees in early summer."

I shift in the bed. "That's a better description that I would be able to come up with, but I'll take it."

"One for Mellark," he chuckles, holding his fist out.

"My coffee preference?"

He snorts. "Black with two ice cubes. You think putting things in coffee ruins it."

"Very true, you should take my advice," I muter, eying his cup of coffee. I can tell he has it loaded down with cream and sugar. "Umm….my favorite thing to eat?"

"Besides hot chocolate and oranges? My lamb stew."

I frown. "I don't remember that."

He shrugs. "Didn't think you would. I can make it for you when we go home, you'll love it."

I freeze. Home? I barely know this man. Do I really want to go home with him?

Peeta senses my discomfort and leans over, placing his warm hand on mine. A tingle runs up my arm, and my eyes dart up to meet his. "We'll figure this out. If you want to stay at our apartment alone for a while, I can stay somewhere else, Katniss. I mean…you don't know me. Well, sort of. I'm trying to understand this as much as you. It'll be alright."

And for the first time, I believe him. I'm beginning to see how Peeta Mellark found his way into my heart the first time, because he's easily doing it again.


	10. Visitors

Peeta stays for another hour or so before heading home. He gives me another friendly wave goodbye and I find myself strangely lonely when he's gone. I sleep, thankfully with no dreams tonight of blood and roses.

The next morning, I'm woken up by a nurse coming in to check on me. Now that I'm without the I.V., I can move around and get up from the bed without it being a large scale production. I quickly shower in the tiny bathroom when she leaves and try to make myself look presentable with the bag Peeta has brought me. I take the articles out piece by piece and inspect them. The clothes are mine. I know it – they're things I would wear and I like them. I know he's telling the truth – one look at his honest face tells me that he's telling me the truth about being married. However, I still feel a slight rush of amazement when he tells me something that I know to be true or that at least seems to be true.

Slowly, I lift a tshirt up to my nose and sniff. It smells like…something familiar. But what?

Then, I realize.

Flour.

Should flour smell familiar to me?

I get dressed in the clothes that smell strangely familiar and get to work detangling my ratted hair. I let it air dry as I sit in the hospital bed and flip through the TV channels. I'm starting to feel normal again, and I'm getting antsy to leave.

"How are you feeling?" the nurse asks again later in the morning.

"As good as I can. Still sore. Trying to figure out what's real and not real."

She nods and picks up my chart. "The doctor has ordered an MRI for you today. We'll come back in about fifteen minutes for you."

I nod and wait until she leaves to panic. I know I had one while I was out, but the thought of having one awake scares me to death. Being closed into a tiny tube for a long period of time makes the bile rise up in my throat.

It would be terrifying.

Peeta walks in a few minutes later and sees the frightened look on my face. He's freshly showered and limping a lot less today. "What's wrong?" he asks, handing me another hot chocolate. I accept it with shaky hands.

"MRI in a few minutes."

"Oh," he says calmly. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, um…I'm fine, I insist. "I just…being inside the little area is making me a little nervous," I admit.

Peeta's face softens as he walks over to me. I notice he's without his cane today, but still struggling in his boot. He's at my bedside in a flash, his worried eyes wide. "Hey, it's gonna be alright. Maybe if I charm that nurse out there, she'll let me go in the room with you. Would that be any better, or just…weird?" he asked, his hand on mine. I glanced down at where his skin burned pleasantly against mine and nodded.

"Please," I whispered. He nodded and limped outside my room. He came back several minutes later, beaming.

"Well, gimpy is good for something. I can go."

I'm wheeled back to the room several hours later, Peeta in tow. He was allowed to go into the MRI room with me after a little coaxing with the nurses. He stayed at the opening of the machine the entire time, telling me about all the types of bread he was going to make for me when I got out of the hospital. I made it through the MRI unscathed but with a grumbling stomach.

"Do you bake as well as you say you do?" I ask once we're back in the room.

He nods and blushes slightly. "My throngs of customers every day seem to think so."

"Who's watching the store right now?"

"Well, I'm paying Rue some overtime, and Thresh – do you remember them?"

I shake my head no. Peeta shrugs it off easily and moves on. "They were so glad to know you were doing better. I talked to Thresh this morning and gave him an update on you, so I'm sure Rue's pried it out of him by now. They run the shop when I'm not there."

He's in the middle of describing Rue and Thresh and how they are his right hand people at the bakery when suddenly the door swings open. The privacy curtain is halfway drawn, concealing my view of the door, but I can see the shadow of a tall man. He strides confidently in, his piercing gray eyes finding mine in an instant.

"Well…," he says his voice deep and smooth and arrogantly cocky, "You're a sight for sore eyes, Catnip."

"Gale."

It's a statement, not a question. I know this person.

I know Gale.

Peeta shifts in his chair, standing up quickly to hover over my bedside. His gaze is suddenly stormy as he stares down my childhood best friend in the doorway. I glance at him, and then back at Gale.

Peeta.

Gale.

Peeta.

Shit.

I stutter for a second, my bruised brain trying to make sense of it all. "Um, Gale….what are you doing here?"

He quirks an eyebrow at me and pulls his lips into a thin line as his gray eyes remain on mine. I shift uncomfortably, biting my lip and smoothing down my hair. Something about the way he's looking at me is unnerving.

"So you do remember me," he said confidently, "Not that I thought you could forget."

For some reason his cocky answer makes me want to twist his neck shut.

"Some things are burned into your brain I guess," I mutter. The details about Gale are still foggy, but I know enough to make me nervous. I remember being engaged and romantically involved with Gale. I loved him. The next thing I know, I wake up in a hospital bed and Peeta is telling me he's my husband. Something had to happen to change this, but what?

One can understand why I am no longer in the category of 'eloquent.'

Gale steps closer to the bed, and soon he's directly across from Peeta. I can't look away though – Gale's eyes are locked on mine as he stares at me. "Like me," he chuckles, touching my arm. Peeta shifts uncomfortably, and I jump.

"Oh Gale…shit…um…this is Peeta. My uh…husband."

Gale lifts his chin, as if to say 'is that so?' and eyes the man across the bed. "Say it like you mean it, Catnip."

Finally, he holds out his hand and offers it to Peeta. Peeta takes it, and the two share a handshake that I'm sure could crack a diamond were it in the middle of their palms. I lean back in bed to give them room, and finally they drop hands. I'd like a knife to cut the tension in the room, but at this point I think that would be asking too much.

"Peeta Mellark."

"Gale Hawthorne."

I swallow bile.

"Mellark Bakery."

"Hawthorne Industries."

Their eyes light up with recognition as they realize what the other one does. In a small town, it's not difficult to place people almost immediately by either profession or last name. I shift in the bed.

"Well...before we get into our family histories next, uhm…Gale…?" I ask in a questioning tone. He backs away from the bed, his eyes flicking first to Peeta's, then to mine.

"Made quite the mess, haven't you Catnip?"

"It's Katniss," I reply flatly. He grins, knowing he's gotten a rise out of me. "Can you still see the bump?" he asks, leaning towards me. I flinch before I think better of it and Peeta sighs.

"So you fell out of a tree," Gale states, "And word on the street is that you don't know your own name."

I know he's just trying to get a reaction.

"You heard that from Prim, because she's living in your house. And I remember exactly who I am; just…certain events are….a little slower coming back to me, that's all."

Gale stares at me unabashedly. "You remembered me."

"Right. But I've known you forever."

"So….you remember being engaged?"

Peeta shifts, clearing his throat. "I'm gonna…give you two a minute. Katniss, I'll be right outside if you …need me," he offers, hobbling from the room. Gale smirks as the door clicks shut.

"Got the poor boy falling all over himself already for you, eh? Someone should get bread boy a cane."

I grit my teeth. I want to smack that smirk right off of his smug face. This is our game, me and him. We annoy the fuck out of each other, and it used to make us so crazy we would eventually screw. The passion was there, but so was fire.

Heat and passion is good. That you can last on.

But flame makes you burn, and you only want to do that once.

As I scowl at him, fuzzy memories slowly return. Fighting with Gale, screaming, throwing ourselves at each other in passion, heated arguments and steamy kisses. I try to remember two things: Why I was so in love with him, and why we broke up.

I can't decide suddenly which one is more important. I clench my fists and try to make my mind cooperate but it just won't. It's so frustrating and I'm quickly getting a headache.

"He fell when he was out looking for me."

Gale nodded. "Maybe he should stay in the bakery."

I pound the mattress beside my leg with my fist and bite back a growl. "Gale…whether I remember him or not is irrelevant. That's my husband out there, so put your testosterone aside and play nicely."

"As you say. Just trying to get the details straight."

"Well…I fell out of a tree and I woke up here. I don't remember some things," I admitted weakly. "Aren't visiting hours almost over?"

"I make my own hours here," he quips.

Oh. Right. Gale has money now. His family owns the mines – of course he has money. Shitloads, if I remember. I wrinkle my nose and wonder why I ever thought that was important.

"So what do you remember?" he prods.

I shake my head. "Bits and pieces. I know you, obviously. I remember what an ass you can be. And before you ask, yes I remember being engaged. Speaking of engaged, when did Prim and Rory…?"

Gale nods. "New Year's. We had our usual party and Rory popped the question."

"And they're not young to be doing this?"

"No younger than we were," he says, looking at me expectantly.

"Shit Gale," I mutter. "I'm just trying to get everything straight."

He sighs heavily, running his palms against the tops of his khaki pants. He looks ridiculous in his khaki pants and pressed shirt and it's not him and it's making me crazy. My hands twitch again and I have to look away.

"You're right, Katniss, I'm sorry. I've been an ass to you since I walked in the door, and Peter too."

"Peetah," I correct harshly. Maybe a little too harshly.

Gale frowns and nods. "You're right. I'm sorry. I have been an ass though, and I want to make it up to you. I want you to recover at my house, with me. My mom wants you there too, you know that right? And…so does your mom."

I look at up at him in bewilderment. "You…my mother is at your house?"

Gale nods. "We moved her after….after you fell off the face of the earth. My mom went to see her in the home she was in and it nearly broke her heart to see her best friend like that. She lives at our estate now, not that awful, godforsaken home. She's a vegetable Katniss, and they treated her like on too."

I sit back in the bed as the weight of the day comes crashing down on me. My mother was in a home. My father is dead, and my mother is in a home. Or, was. Now she's at Gale's house.

Or Gale's estate.

"Do you remember her?"

I nod.

"She wasn't getting taken care of there, Katniss. Please understand. We did it to help her."

"I know."

Gale is silent for a minute. "Having money isn't everything, but….in these cases, it is."

I nod again.

"They even agreed it was best. We turned one of the rooms upstairs into her own. She's….well, she's there."

The unshed tears burn against the backs of my eyes as I try not to cry in front of Gale. I never wanted to cry in front of Gale. I guess not that much had changed.

I sit in silence as Gale makes conversation with me, my head spinning slightly. He leaves and tells me that his mother will be there to see me in the morning. A few seconds after his departure Peeta peeks around the privacy curtain.

"Can I come back?"

I look up at him, his face familiar yet alarmingly unfamiliar. I can hardly stand it. I blink and let a tear slip out. "Did you know my mother was in a nursing home?"

His face falls. Oh. So this must be a sore subject. He nods and pulls up the chair at my bedside.

"Tell the truth," I demand. My voice is harsher than I intended, but I don't even have the patience to apologize.

"Yes, your mother is in a nursing home. Your father…he died before I met you. The stress of….what happened was too much for her, and she didn't take it well. She stopped responding and….it was the only option. Her doctors thought it would be best if she…rested."

I can tell he's trying to be delicate, but that's not what I want right now. I feel desperate and trapped and I just want the truth. "So I left her there to die?"

Peeta stares at me, his defined jaw tight and his blue eyes bright. "You left her there because you thought it was best. Katniss she…she no longer responds to anyone. Not even you."

I nodded this news more than I was ready to handle. Another tear. I guess deep down I knew, I just…didn't really want to know. "We don't talk about your family a lot. It's not…it makes you very sad," he admitted.

"When we met you…you were in a sort of phase I guess. You didn't want to talk about the Hawthornes or Gale or your mother….you just wanted to move on. I never pushed it after….I was always curious, but…it was obvious it upset you to even think about it."

Peeta's voice is soft and gravelly as he speaks, and I watch him carefully as he runs his hands through is unruly blonde hair. "I just…I want you to be happy and if you…Gale told me he wants to take you to his house to recover."

"I don't know what I'm going to do yet. You're still a stranger to me Peeta. I mean…you're growing on me, but…I don't know you."

He stares at me for a second, visibly unsure of what to say. He bobs his head once, looking down at his hands as he wrings them together. "I get it. I would be freaked too. You do what you have to. I'll be here," he says finally. I swallow and whip my face angrily as my emotions and the weight of the confusing day come crashing down on me.

"I…I think I'd like to be alone now. I…"

"Say no more." He stands, moves to kiss me, but stops. He pants my hand instead, giving me a nod before hobbling out the door.

I don't dream again that night, thankfully, but I don't exactly sleep well either. I wake up and stretch, jumping when I see her sitting beside my bed, waiting for me to wake up.

"Hazelle," I say quietly, watching her face. She nods, already holding back tears.

"I'm so glad you know who I am….when I heard….Oh Katniss," she cries, wiping a stray tear as it slides down her cheek. I sit up and motion for her to come to the bed.

"Hazelle…it's okay. Why are you crying? I'm fine."

"I just…miss you. I miss seeing you around. Your momma misses you too, you know that right?"

"She doesn't know who I am. She doesn't know who any of us are. Gale told me she's still….nothing's changed."

"She needs you, Katniss. Please."

"Hazelle, what do you want? I already talked to Prim and Gale, and they made it clear that I haven't been around. I'm sorry, okay? I wish I could remember everything, but the last two years are just…fuzzy."

"I know baby, I know. The doctors all told me. You're being released today, and I want you to come home with me."

"I can't."

"Katniss-"

"No, I can't. I'm married!"

"But you don't even know the boy! Does he even have any proof, Katniss?"

"The doctor said he did, and….he's good, you don't have to worry. I believe him."

She looked at me skeptically. "Katniss, you're a good girl. Always were smart. But you can't just believe everything he says! He could be trying to-"

"To what?"

"I don't know. Just…your mommma. She's at my house and….Katniss I think she would do good to see you. She don't respond to Prim anymore, and I don't know what else…" she trails off, wiping another tear.

"I'm sorry Hazelle, but my mom gave up on me a long time ago."

Hazelle sighs, looking down at me from the side of the bed. "Or did you give up on her?"


	11. Coming To Blows

My head is spinning after Hazelle leaves. While part of me wants to absolutely deck her for assuming I'd forgotten about my family, I still couldn't bring myself to be that rude to her.

I sure wanted to, but I didn't.

If I went home with Hazelle and Gale, would I get answers?

Even if I didn't….I would be with my mother. Or was she lost forever? Hazelle didn't seem to think so. In fact, she thought if I went home and spent time with her that she would find her way back.

I couldn't help but wonder what it was she was hiding herself from.

I shuddered.

Peeta comes back later that evening, and I willingly accept his offer to go down to the cafeteria after he takes a look at my untouched dinner tray in the corner. Hospital food was just above the 'edible' level in my opinion, and I was in no mood to eat it. I no longer have any monitors or IVs hooked up to my arms, so I'm more than ready to leave the confines of my hospital room.

"You're sprung," he jokes, handing me my duffel bag. I slowly make my way into the dizzying, white tiled bathroom to change into some yoga pants and a comfortable looking sweatshirt. I feel tons better, but still like my head will explode if I touch it. I stare into the mirror and am a little disgusted at what I see: A once curvy, proudly muscular girl that has deflated into a hunched over mess. There are bags under my eyes and my skin is pale and blotchy from crying earlier. My hair remains in a loose braid that hangs over my shoulder. I want to clean myself up, but I just don't have the energy to even worry about that now. For some reason, a quiet dinner with my mystery husband seems much more appealing than a shower.

"I can only hope I looked better on this wedding day of ours," I groan as I leave the tiny bathroom.

Peeta looks up at me and grins. "You were and still are the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Come on, let's get some food in you. Food always makes me feel better. They've got good stuff downstairs."

"They do?"

He nods. "Yeah, I hate like every meal here for weeks. They have to bring you food that's…"

"Partially digested?" I snort.

"Yeah, well…yeah. But they keep all the good stuff downstairs."

My stomach growls in anticipation and I gesture him forwards. "By all means then."

He dutifully walks me down to the large dining hall and waits while I survey the items. It's set up in a cafeteria fashion, but is strangely empty.

"What time is it?"

"Nine thirty. I expect most people are in bed," he explains.

"Wow, this day got away from me," I mutter. The smells of the twenty four hour cafeteria soon distract me. I'm in one of the largest hospitals in the state of Tennessee, so the food is actually edible and smells good on my empty stomach. I catch him watching me as he selects his own items and I get an idea.

"Okay, so, we're married," I state nervously, gripping my plastic tray.

He gives me a look that I can only describe as adorable as he holds up his left hand. "That's what they tell me."

I bite back a laugh. "Okay, um…sorry. Stupid statement…um…can I try something?"

He shrugs and tries not to laugh as he shuffles over to the silverware.

"Pick my food out."

"What?"

"I want to see if you're right. Could you pick out what I would eat?"

He glances around, his boyish face blank and his eyes wide. He gives me another small smiled and takes my tray. I shuffle over to one of many empty tables and watch as he makes he was to the salad bar. I watch him select the right lettuce, loading it down with cherry tomatoes and carrots. When he reaches for the shredded cheese I bite my lip.

I hate cold cheese. I only eat it when it's melted over something.

He catches me watching and laughs, putting it back. I laugh at myself and realize he was waiting to see if I noticed. I nod in approval as he puts the tongs down like they're on fire. He selects a vinegar and oil mixture that I would have before making his way to the hot items. When he finally comes back over, I survey the tray with surprise as he clumsily pulls out the chair across from me.

With my salad is another orange, a small carton of grape juice, a little side of pasta salad, and a piece of cheesy pizza bread. He watches me expectantly, his blue eyes shining.

"Wow," I breathe, breaking into a smile. "You do know me."

Peeta nods as he spreads his napkin on his lap. His eyes flick up to mine with a pained look. "I miss you, too," he blurts out as he stirs his soup. He cringes and closes his eyes in embarrassment. "I mean…I'm sorry. That was….not what you needed to hear."

I suck in a breath and try to keep calm. "I'm sorry. I miss…knowing who I am. If that makes sense."

His eyes move up to mine and his baby blues are suddenly twisting with a stormy hue that I'm not sure I've seen often. He chews his lower lip and keeps stirring. "I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry, Katniss. I know it's too much for you to deal with right now."

"No, it's alright. I'd miss….I mean, If I…"

I wanted to say If you were the one that didn't remember, I'd miss you too. But the fact of that matter was that I didn't know if I would.

"I know. But Cinna told me not to put too much pressure on you to remember. I guess I just….forgot."

"It's alright. I'm just tired of not knowing who I am. Everyone else thinks I should know."

"Like who?"

I cut a piece of pizza bread off and chew it thoughtfully. "Prim. Gale. Hazelle."

Peeta sighs. "You honestly didn't talk about them much. Prim….you'd bring her up every now and again, but I knew it hurt you to talk about her. When you and Gale broke up, she didn't take it well. I guess that was right around the time things were starting up with her and Rory. She wanted you to all live in that house as a big, happy family. I don't think she much cared for the idea of you marrying a lowly baker."

His eyes drop down to the table and his cheeks turn a little red. It's not hard to tell that the Hawthornes intimidated him when they dropped in.

"Peeta…there's no shame in being a baker. Especially if you're as good as you say you are."

He shrugs. "I guess. But from what you said…what little you said about them…well, their lifestyle is pretty flashy."

I wrinkle my nose. "And I like that?"

"Well, no…"

"At least that part has stayed the same. But what else were you saying? About Prim?"

He takes a slow sip of juice and sets it down on the table, twirling the class. "I guess just that….she never cared for me. I think she thought you would live with me awhile and come to your senses. I'd only seen her a few times, back while you and Gale were together. You brought her to eat at the bakery before we really knew each other well. Katniss, I'd give you answers if I could. But you didn't talk about your family a lot. It…it made you too sad."

I nod. "It's okay. I….I know you'd help me if I could. I want to remember though, Peeta. I really do."

I try to smile at him. His free hand sits on the table beside the tray, and for a moment I think about grabbing it. But I don't want to confuse him anymore. After all of the doctor's pep talks, tests, and reassurance, there is still an underlying fear in the back of my mind: What if I never remember?

What if the old me never comes back?

Do I stay married to a stranger? Do I hope I fall in love with him again?

I chew slowly and try to not look petrified as Peeta eats across from me. Something tells me he's thinking the same thing.

X0x0x0x0x0x0x

The next day, Cinna comes to see me early. I'm just rubbing the sleep out of my eyes when he announces I can go home that afternoon.

"Home…with…Peeta?" I asked slowly. I watch as he quickly jots something down on the chart at the end of the bed.

He nods. "Do you feel comfortable doing that?"

I sit back against the pillows and think. While it would be good to go home with him, where else would I go? I have no memory of being anywhere else but my childhood home, and at Gale's. But I know that's not an option.

"Katniss, I highly recommend you go back to your normal day to day activity. Most often it's the daily, monotonous tasks that will bring a memory forward that could bring everything back."

"But what if I don't know what's normal? Dr…Cinna, I…I feel …like Peeta is expecting this to all come back to me. I know he misses my…our life, but…I just can't remember."

Cinna nods, his eyes meeting mine. "I can't promise your memories will ever return. You understand that, right?"

"Yes."

"But you have to at least try. You owe it to yourself…and to Peeta, to try. I'm a good judge of character," he says softly, "and that boy is good."

I give him a weak smile. "I get that. I'm just…scared," I admit.

Cinna looks at me with a twinkle in his eye. "Nothing good ever came to those unwilling to be bold. Take a chance. Maybe you find that you enjoy this new life. You get to start over, at least for a while. A lot of people would jump at a chance like that."

"Maybe you're right. I just…like you said, I need to take a chance."

He nods again before signing my release papers. "You do that. Come back and see me in a week. We'll do some more tests and figure this thing out yet."

He reaches over, squeezing my hand with his warm one. His grip is firm, comforting, and reassuring somehow. I smile wider at him and watch as he leaves. He isn't gone two seconds when Hazelle Hawthorne comes hurrying in.

"Is it true?" she asks. "Are you really coming home?"

I shake my head. "I can leave today, yes."

"Oh Katniss…please, honey. Come see your mama. Please, she wants to see you-"

I hold up my hand and shake my head at her. "My mom doesn't know me, Hazelle. You said it yourself. She's a vegetable."

Hazelle's smile falters. "But she needs you. I know with her babies around her she would…she might come back. Please, Katniss, she's got life in her yet. Please come and see her. Just for a few days."

"Hazelle, I can't I-"

"Honey, she has Prim with her. Maybe if she had the two of you…maybe she would come back. The two of you could pull her out of whatever she's in…together."

I pause, thinking about it. Does she have a point? Would having both of her daughters around help pull my mother out of her depression? I fought to remember what she was like before. My memories are still fuzzy – shiny, almost. I catch a glimpse of her smiling face and catch myself considering Hazelle's offer. But what about Peeta?

"Come home, honey. Come to where you belong. Your mamma needs you," Hazelle pleads.

I stare into her grey eyes that are so like my own and feel a tugging at my heart. Maybe she's right – maybe I can save my mother from whatever she's drowning in. Sorrow? Abandonment? I'm not sure. I just know that I want to try to help her.

"Alright. I'll come home with you. But just for a little while to help mom," I say softly.

Hazelle smiles brightly and grasps my hand. "Thank you baby. You won't regret it."

She flips open her cell phone and begins making calls. I get up and prepare to pack up my things and my mind suddenly thinks of Peeta. What will he think of this?

Gale strides in several minutes later, looking like he owns the place as usual.

"Coming home today, Catnip?"

"Just…to see my mom. Believe me, that's the only reason," I state firmly as I swing my legs over the bed. He reaches for my hand to help, but I swat him away. I grab my duffel bag from Peeta and start collecting my things to go home. I groan internally as Peeta arrives only minutes later.

"Katniss, I brought you some fresh clothes, I-"he pauses as he spies Gale and Hazelle standing in the room with me. "Sorry. Hello," he greets them politely. I wince and look over at Gale, who is already crossing his arms smugly.

Peeta's eyes fall to the bag in my hand and then flick to Gale. "What's going on? Katniss, are you leaving?"

I feel my heart shatter as I take in his sad expression. I've kicked him in the gut and I know it, and I immediately regret my decision.

"She's going home with us for a bit to see her mama, that's all," Hazelle explains to him.

"Where she belongs," Gale adds firmly.

"But-"

"Now she'll be fine with us," Hazelle interjects, holding up her hand. Peeta blinks and watches Gale's arms cross over his chest. "She just needs to be with family for a while. Get her head on straight."

"Right, We feel it's best that she stay with us – what she's used to."

"But-"

Gale keeps talking, oblivious of Peeta's reddening face. "Frankly, I think she should stay with us until we sort out the supposed…details of this new life she suddenly has."

"Katniss, are you sure?" he asks, turning to me. I give him a trapped look. "You can do whatever you want to do-"

Gale keeps running his mouth, his haughty tone cutting through the air. "We don't even know if this whole 'marriage' thing is real or not."

Peeta's eyes quickly turn stormy as he whips around to look at Gale. "I'm her husband. Has everyone happened to forget about that tiny little detail? I'm her husband!"

"Peeta, please," I beg, walking over to his side. He's leaning on his cane and looking pained and I know I only added to his suffering with my news. "Peeta," I whisper, taking him aside. "This is not about you. I just want to go and see my mom. She's staying with the Hawthornes and….Hazelle thinks that seeing me and Prim together will help her."

"But Katniss-"

"I'm sorry… just…I need to do this," I say in a hushed tone. "I need to see if she's really gone. I need to do this to get answers."

His face relaxes slightly. "I guess I can see that. But…but will you be alright, I mean…"

"Yes, I'll be fine. I'll be under the same roof as my mother and sister and…and maybe they can help me sort some of this out."

His shoulders slump further down. "I'll…I'll let you get packed then. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to fly off the handle, I just-"

"Let her go back to where she belongs, " Gale cuts in. "She needs to stay with us for a while until we get this whole mess figured out."

Peeta turns around. "I'm fine with whatever Katniss wants to do." He squares his shoulders and glares icily up at Gale, who has a good six inches on him. Gale furrows his eyebrows and I watch as Peeta clenches his jaw.

This is one pissing contest I do not want to be in the middle of.

"Let her go. You don't know what she needs," Gale hisses.

"And you do?" Peeta challenges back.

"Who's to say you didn't trick her into marrying you?"

"And why the hell would I do that?"

"Not sure bread boy, but sometimes people do awfully desperate things to get what they want. Just saying you look like the type who would do just about anything to get with a girl like that. Katniss is a sucker if she really did fall for you."

"You'd better watch it. That's my wife you're talking about," Peeta growled, clenching his fists. I stared at him in shock – this side was a new one.

"So you say-"

I barely have time to blink before Peeta's fist connects with Gale's nose. The blow cracks loudly in the small room, but Gale isn't a wimp by a long shot. He recovers quickly and slams Peeta back in the jaw he was just clenching. I hear another loud crack and wince. Peeta grunts as Gale throws a shot to his stomach, but the blow doesn't seem to faze him. Peeta swings and lets his fist connect with Gale's ribs before I can even speak.

"Stop!" I scream. "Just stop! Stop…oh my God, knock it off!"

"Boys! Stop! We're in a hospital!"

They continued to wrestle in the tiny hospital room, pushing and shoving each other as Hazelle screamed out the doorway for help. Two orderlies soon appear, pulling them apart. I felt hot tears slide down my cheeks – what a mess I'd made. If I go home with Peeta, I leave my mother all alone and give up any chance I had at helping her pull through her troubles. If I went home with Gale and Hazelle, I crush Peeta.

I felt lost.

Cinna comes rushing back in and his eyes take in the sight of Peeta, his jaw bruised and lip bleeding, and Gale, who nose is now openly gushing blood. "What's going on?" he demands, jumping between the two. Gale rips his arm away from the confused orderly, and Peeta's simply let his arms hang limply at his sides.

"He insulted my wife, as if she isn't having enough trouble right now," Peeta hisses.

"I said the truth, bread boy!" Gale snarls back.

"ENOUGH! You are in a hospital. There are people here with real problems. Now…this is the last thing Katniss needs."

"She's coming home with us, alright?" Gale snaps over Cinna's shoulder.

Peeta's face falls momentarily before he clenches his jaw and looks at me. "Katniss, you have to do what you need to do, alright? I'll be here when you need me. You're sure you want to go with them?"

I nod. "I have to see my mom, Peeta. I have to know that she's okay," I manage to croak. "Can you just give me a…a little time?"

"I'm your husband, Katniss. I'm never going to leave you unless you ask me too."

"But that's your job."

"No, it's not my job. It's what I get to do for the rest of my life."

I can tell from the look in his still fiery eyes that he's hurt, but that he understands. He's calmer now. Peeta nods, walking up to me. He pulls me to him, pressing his hot lips to my forehead. "You do what you need to do. I'm in your phone. Call me if you need anything, alright? I mean it," he says sincerely, squeezing my hand. I squeeze back briefly before he lets it drop. He doesn't look at Hazelle or Gale before walking out the door.

"Katniss, you're not going home with Peeta?" Cinna asks, a light frown decorating his features. I shake my head.

"She's comin home with us. To see her mama," Hazelle says quietly. "They need to all be together."

Silence rings in the tiny hospital room. Gale is pressing a few cotton balls up his nose, which seems to have stopped bleeding for now.

"I'm just goin to try it," I explain quietly. "Just for a few days. I need to see my mom, and…talk to my sister about some things."

Cinna glances between Gale and Hazelle before nodding. "That's fine. But remember – going back to your normal life is what will pull you out of this the fastest. Just remember that Katniss. I'll see you in a week," he adds quietly before turning and leaving the room.

I exhale and pushed my ratty hair away from my eyes. This was not how I planned my last morning in the hospital going.

"Bread boy is stronger than he looks," Gale retorts quietly, rolling his eyes.

"Dammit Gale. Just shut your mouth. Just…just leave it alone," I snap. He stares at me, his steely eyes unyielding.

"Come on baby, let's get your things. We'll get you checked out," Hazelle coaxes, taking my hand. I follow her lead and obey, wondering if I've made the right choice.

Gale continues to stare me down, and each time I try to look into his eyes, all I see are Peeta's.

*Hides*


	12. Cry For Help

"So you've made up your mind then?"

I look up at Gale as I rummage around in the bag for some clean jeans. Hazelle was helping finish up my checkout paperwork with Prim's help. Gale and I were alone.

"This is just…temporary. Until I figure things out."

"But you are coming home with us."

I stop, squeezing my eyes shut as my head begins to throb. "No, I'm going to your house Gale. Not home. I don't…I don't know what 'home' is anymore. I'm going to your house to see my mother."

Gale's dark eyes stare into mine, his gaze hard and cold. He sighs, softening after a few moments. "Fine, Katniss."

I gave the bag a shove on the bed and looked up at him. "Why does everyone make me sound like a crazy person just because I want to see my mom?"

"Because there's nothing left to see!" Gale practically shouts. His words cut me like a knife as they rang in the tiny room. I balked and shook my head.

"I still want to see her," I insist. "She's still my mom."

"I'm sorry, Katniss. I didn't mean…well…I didn't mean it. She's at our house. She's getting the best care money can buy."

"So I've heard."

He gives me another hard look. "You know, I'd think you'd be thanking me for taking care of your mother while you were off with Bread Boy. But leave it to you to be the most entitled person on the planet."

I grab the first pair of jeans I see and return his glare. "What, did I steal the title from you? Is that why you're such an asshole?"

Gale stared at me from across the room, finally shaking his head with a chuckle. "We did always know how to fight."

"What else is new?"

"We knew how to make up."

I feel my cheeks flame as I yank another shirt out of the bag. I'm not an idiot – I know what he's insinuating. My dull mind does remember the mind blowing sex that came with Gale Hawthorne. The man was fantastic in the sack – not that I had much to compare it to.

"You always did know how to piss me off, Gale."

"No Katniss, I always know how to make you feel something. I always have – we've known each other since we were kids. I know you, Katniss, and I know what makes you tick. That's why we work."

"Worked," I correct him. "We broke up, remember?"

"That's in the past."

"Yes, it is Gale, you're right. But here's the thing; I might not know what I did a month ago or what my new last name even is. But I know that if I dumped you, you deserved it. Plain and simple."

He recoils slightly, thrown by my sharp words. "You don't mean that, Catnip. We're best friends."

"No, Gale. We were best friends. Then we were together, and now we're not. I don't know much, but I know that."

He nods after a moment, his eyes avoiding mine. "Fine then. I have to get back to work…I'll see you tonight."

"Fine," I mutter.

He mentions something about sending for the car before he leaves. I sit on the edge of the bed and take a few deep breaths, thrown by our blunt conversation, even though I shouldn't be. Gale has always been a sharp tongued, hot headed asshole. But he was also passionate, caring, and one of the smartest people I knew.

But I couldn't think like that – I was married to Peeta now, not Gale. My heart clenched in my chest as the thought of the blue eyed baker that was now my husband. I knew I had shattered him when I told him I was going home with the Hawthornes, but I would have to fix that later.

All that mattered now was seeing my mother.

After writing a quick thank you note to Cinna, I packed the bag that Peeta had brought me and left with Hazelle and Prim. Gale left separately, claiming he had to get back to work. Hazelle squeezed my arm in the elevator as it took us down to the parking lot.

"I'm so glad you're coming back with us," she said sadly, a trace of a smile on her lips. "Your momma will be happy to see you."

"Will she know it's me?" I asked.

My question doesn't get an answer from Hazelle or Prim. We find a sleek, black Lincoln town car waiting for us in the parking garage, and they quickly usher me inside. I sat back against the plush leather seat and tried to get everything straight in my mind, even though it was no use. Prim clacked away on a tiny phone, texting so fast I could barely keep track of her fingers. Her hair was in perfect blonde waves down her back, the sides pinned up with a fancy looking barrette. She looked so regal and beautiful that I should have been happy for her for becoming such a beautiful woman.

All I could think about was how much I missed her braids.

Hazelle talked quietly on her phone the entire drive, her voice to soft for me to hear. This all seemed like a parallel universe. Prim grown up, Hazelle refined, Gale…well Gale was still the same. I watched the trees flash by and wondered if I would ever feel like myself again.

A nagging question remained in the back of my mind: what if I didn't like my new life? Sure, Peeta was handsome and sweet and after today I knew he could certainly take a punch; but was I happy with him? He seemed to think so, but what did that mean? Was my definition of happiness the same as his? I couldn't be sure.

The car stopped, Prim hurrying out and grabbing my hand to come with her. I stepped out of the car and let my mouth fall open.

I know this house.

The white, antebellum style mansion sits up on a hill and has for years. It's a restored plantation home, complete with servant quarters, a fountain, and gigantic palm trees in the yard.

My head buzzed as I suddenly get a flicker of something. A memory. I've seen this house before!

"Come on, let's go inside," Prim squeezed my hand and pulled me through the front doors. The flash is gone before I even know what to do with it.

As soon as we're inside the house, I asked about my mother.

"Where is she?"

Hazelle checks her watch and nods. "Its afternoon – she's on the lanai."

I'm taken to the back of the ornately decorated home – or mansion, as it was probably referred to. We walk between a few pillars and are suddenly on the most beautiful screened in patio I've ever seen. Plush wicker furniture and fancy wrought iron tables decorate the long, rectangular room, complimenting the bright sunlight. Tropical plants and flowers decorate every corner and table top. I heard a chirp and looked over to the corner where a few canaries are sitting in a gold birdcage.

Then, my eyes shifted to the overstuffed chair in the corner. It was moved at a strange angle and facing the patio and large, lagoon-like pool outside. Slumped over in the chair, I could see my mother's golden head.

"Mom?" I called out, racing to her side. I moved to sit on the ottoman in front of her, my eyes quickly taking her in. It was her, but Hazelle was right – she was empty.

Her eyes lazily moved up to meet mine as I bit back my excitement. I felt it wane as her once bright orbs held no sign of recollection or even happiness to see me.

"Momma….it's me. Katniss. I'm here," I managed to squeak. My voice sounded like it was a million miles away, and it may as well have been. She had no clue who I was, and if she did she didn't show it.

"Mom….it's me," I repeated. "I came home to you."

She stared at me, her eyes glassy and unblinking. I swallowed back the sick that threatened to appear. She sat, motionless and blank as I raked my eyes over her body. She was thin, and painfully so. She wore a pair of comfortable looking cotton pants and a gauzy white blouse. Her golden hair looked shiny and clean and better than I ever remembered. It was in a low bun behind one ear, a few shiny tendrils hanging out. Her lips had a thin layer of sheer lipstick on them, and even her nails were neatly trimmed and polished. She was being taken care of - that was for certain. Hazelle had been telling the truth about that part.

But I could see now that there was no hope of her being the same. My mother was gone – an empty shell.

But why?

"And he got down on one knee and showed me the ring…it was Hazelle's mothers ring…well, one of the side stones, anyway. Rory made the center stone the big one and just put his grandmother's diamond on the side," Prim chattered, holding out her hand. My eyebrows rose as I admired the way the three stone engagement ring sat perched on her pale, perfectly manicured hand.

"I'm sorry Prim; I'm very happy for you, I just…couldn't remember you ever…liking any of that."

She pulled her hand back and sat back in the plush chair beside her vanity. I was sitting in her room, or what was being used as her temporary room until she was married to Rory. They had a New Year's Eve wedding planned, and according to Prim it was the talk of the town. The Hawthorne's now hosted the biggest party of the year in their new, southern style mansion.

After I had burst in demanding answers, she had begun the story of how we drifted apart. She was sitting on her plush white bed, looking downright angelic as her golden hair caught the sunlight. She matched with this house somehow, with her light blonde hair and pale skin; right along with all the different shades of white and eggshell white and vanilla that the room was draped in. Frilly pillows, mercury glass, lots of mirrors and even more lace decorated the large, airy space that she now called home.

"I do," she said softly.

"Since when?"

"We grew up poor, Katniss. So poor the state had to pay for us to have two meals a day at school. My teacher used to write home asking if I was getting enough to eat. Don't you remember?"

I frown as I sit down at her glass vanity. The entire table is made of fine, beveled glass. With the twinkling lights of the chandelier behind us, even the damn vanity looks like its shining. I'm sitting on an antique chair that's covered in vanilla colored velvet, and it's softer than most couches I've been on. It's so extravagant it makes me a little ill.

"I remember," I insisted. "I do. But this? Isn't all of this a little bit much?"

"I guess it depends on who you're talking to."

"Prim, I…I need some answers. I need you to help me piece this all together."

Prim looks at me hesitantly. "How much do you remember?" she asked carefully.

I frowned. "I remember….being with Gale. I remember…this house, but….not clearly."

"We used to come here, as kids. You and Gale rode your bikes by here and would look at the pretty houses," she informed me. "You showed me this place when I was six years old, and we used to wonder what sort of people lived here."

I paused. "And then…I remember our dads worked together, mine and Gale's. In the mines. We were coalminer's kids. Yeah…um….and then…dad?"

Prim nodded. "He died in an accident at work. You were away at college."

"Gale stayed home to…he worked. For his dad. After…"

"Gale's dad runs Hawthorne mines. He still does. He bought it when you were in high school, and Gale worked there. Then they hit it big," she said slowly. "Really big."

"Dad still worked for them?"

"As a foreman, yes. Then there was the accident, and…"

I struggle to remember. "I remember…flowers. But…"

My mind conjures up a fuzzy day full of flowers. But no casket.

"There were just flowers," she said slowly. "Nothing left of him to…"

"Oh."

"What else do you remember?"

"Just…being with Gale. And then…we broke up. I don't remember why?"

"You just…outgrew him I guess."

Something doesn't sit right with that answer. That doesn't sound like me, but who knows? I don't know myself anymore, so maybe Prim is telling the truth. The idea that she might not be stabs me in the heart. I sit at the vanity and stare at her in all the pretty mirrors. I want to break them all.

"Prim, I need answers. What happened? Please, just…tell me."

She shifted on the bed and stood, walking over to where I sat. She perched on the glass tabletop and sighed. "Dad died. Mom lost it. She was never the same. It was a huge cause of stress for you. You wanted to quit school to come deal…take care of her, and I wouldn't let you. Rory helped me while you were gone and we just…you were away at school and Gale was here and….things were never the same after dad died."

I nodded. "Thank you."

She gives me a tight smile and shrugs. "You wanted answers."

I sat in the overstuffed chair and watched as a small woman worked diligently at my nails. Prim exhaled and let her head fall back against the pillow behind her head, giving me a small smile. "Admit it," she said, "You're enjoying this."

The Hawthornes wanted for nothing. That apparently included their own spa in the basement of their home. We sat in tall pedicure chairs on one side of the room, having our nails done. On the other side were two hairdressing stations and a massage table.

"Mom had her nails done. She never used to paint her nails."

Prim smiles. "No. I take her down here once a week. She gets her hair done and her nails done. Some days she smiles…other days not. But I think it makes her at least a little happy."

"You think so?"

She nods. "Of course. She was married to a coal miner right out of high school. She never had anything like this."

"I guess. The Hawthornes sure do know how to piss away money."

The woman grinding at my crooked thumbnail pauses momentarily, but says nothing. I watch her face turn hard.

After our talk in her bedroom, I decided that it was going to take more than me running around, slamming doors and demanding answers to actually get any. So, I had obliged in her offer to have a 'girl's day' and away we went. I had been in the Hawthorne basement all afternoon having my hair trimmed and blown out, my skin scrubbed, and more things waxed than I would care to shake a stick at. Prim called it 'beauty base zero' and giggled.

I called it stupid.

Despite her accusations, I don't think I would have ever found any of this to be my taste. All I could think about as the woman painted on my white tips was how mud would look caked around the edges of my nails. I was not cut out for this. It didn't matter what Prim said – I didn't belong there. With a sigh, I put up with it. I wanted to spend more time with my mom. Prim seemed like she didn't want to give me answers about anything.

Perhaps if I could bring my mother back, she could.

"I want to eat dinner with mom. What time does she normally do that?"

The happy expression faltered. "Um…I usually eat with the rest of the family in the dining room. Mom eats in the kitchen with Cora."

"Who's Cora?"

"Oh, the housekeeper."

I balked. "You make our mother eat in the kitchen with the help?"

Prim shrugged. "She doesn't do well in noisy rooms, and we thought the stress of it all bothered her. So we have her eat with Cora."

I bit back my disgust. "I'll be eating with mom and Cora then," I said bitterly. Prim met my gaze but said nothing. I stood in a huff, unable to tolerate this any longer. Prim was a spoiled brat, living in a mansion on a hill, and meanwhile my dazed mother ate her meals, hidden away in the kitchen. It was too much.

"Topcoat," the woman hissed at me as I began to leave.

"I don't care," I spat, hurrying from the room. My stupid nails were the least of my worries.

I sat on the ottoman in front of my mom, staring into her eyes. She looked back at me with a glazed expression, her eyes unaware.

"I'm here, momma," I said quietly, taking her hand. She was still on the lenai, sitting propped up with her feet in the sun. She hadn't made any change since I had arrived.

"Momma, I'm gonna eat dinner with you, is that alight?"

She sighed and moved her head slowly to the door. I heard footsteps approaching before a shorty, thin, dark skinned woman walked briskly into the room. She wore the same white starched uniform as the rest of the staff I had seen about the house, but she seemed to walk with an authority. Her coffee colored eyes landed on me and she gasped.

"Oh! Miss Katniss, I'm so sorry, I had heard you were home."

"Sorry? Um…no, I'm sorry. I'm…I'm Katniss," I said, reaching my hand out to shake hers. How did she know my name? I realized then that she must have seen me in an old picture or something. My dark eyes and hair made me the black sheep of the family – I looked nothing like my fair skinned mother and sister. She stared at me, her eyes warm but thoughtful.

"I'm Cora…I work for the Hawthornes. I'm Miss Rue's momma," she explained.

I frowned. "Rue?"

"Oh, that's right. Um, she works for…for you husband?" she asked tentatively, her dark eyebrows rising slightly.

"Oh! Oh, yes. He told me about her. Rue, right. I'm sorry, I'm….I'm still not myself, I'm afraid." I said softly, looking down at my hands.

"It's alright child."

"Right," I stammered.

"I was just gonna ask Miss Everdeen here to eat supper with me. Would you be up to that?" she asked my mother brightly.

My mom only stared.

"She's havin a so-so day," she assured me. Her wiry hands reached for my mother, who accepted them slowly. Shakily, she was pulled to her feet. "Can I get you something, Katniss?"

"Oh um," I said slowly, standing up, "Could I eat with you?"

X0x0x0x0x0x0x

I instantly liked Cora. She was small and wispy, her dark ringlets pulled back from her face with a simple barrette. Her tiny hands worked quickly to place their meal on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. I watched as my mother sat motionless and stared at the plate in front of her.

"I think she likes my baked macaroni and cheese. Same way my momma made for me. I think it helps keep some weight on that frame of hers. Doesn't it?" she asked my mother.

Her eyes slowly rose to meet Cora's, and for the first time she nodded.

"Would you like what they havin' in the dinin' room, or do you want what we're havin?"

I watch, mesmerized as my mother's eyes follow Cora around the kitchen. They seemed to have pepped up a little, and for a second I have hope. "I'd never pass up your mom's recipe," I said quickly. "Please, can I help?"

Cora brushed me off with a loud laugh that made me jump, dishing out the creamy shells and cheese into perfect white bowls. I watched as she chattered away about this and that, occasionally spooning a bit of food into my mother.

"She have her good days and her bad days," she answers honestly after I ask about her progress.

"What made her like this?"

Cora stops before giving me a pained look. "Miss Hazelle said that she never was the same after your daddy passed. I can't blame her though…you lose your other half, things bound to get tough. Your momma's just gone away for a while. She'll be back. She'll be back," she repeated softly. I watched her reach across the table and grasp my mother's hand in hers.

"Did we….did we meet, before…my accident?" I ask softly.

Cora shakes her head. "No, we didn't. But you know my Rue. She speaks very highly of you. You don't come round here often…or ever."

"Do you know why?"

She shakes her head again. "Somethin' bout that boy."

"Peeta?"

"Nah. Mr. Gale. You two had a fallin' out. Parted ways, that's all. Tough to visit your loved ones when they live with your ex fiancé I 'spose."

I nodded. "You're right. I suppose it would be…um, hard. Um…so do you help my mom a lot?"

Cora smiles politely, nodding. "I do. I enjoy spending my time with such a nice soul."

I glance between my mother and Cora for a moment. "But…she doesn't talk."

"Don't matter to me none. I talk enough for the two of us I reckon."

Cora took a bite of her own cooking and I do the same, letting the creamy mac and cheese melt on my tongue. It's divine, and I'm temporarily distracted by the flavor.

"I'm glad that…someone so kind had been watching after her. Thank you, Cora. It…means a lot to me that you would take so much time out of your day to help her. I appreciate it," she said softly.

Cora watched her for a moment before reaching her hand across the table to squeeze mine. "Of course, baby. Of course. Miss Everdeen and I get along just fine. Nothin' better than helpin out a friend," she said firmly, releasing my hand to pat my mother's shoulder.

I ate another delicious bite of macaroni and smiled at her mother, who was still chewing herself.

"My Rue will be happy to know that you're doing so much better," Cora continued. "She looks up to you, you know."

"I wish I remembered her…Peeta said he would take me to the bakery if I wanted, but…I guess I'm here for now, so…"

"Things take time," Cora said simply. "Stay here and visit with your momma, but don't forget about Mr. Peeta."

"Do you know him?"

"I do. Buy all our bread from that bakery of his. You got yourself a nice boy there."

"I wish I could remember that too," I repeated sadly. I drew the spoon through the creamy sauce in the bottom of my bowl. "I feel like I'm being punished for something. But I can't even remember what that is."

Cora shook her head. "You just forgetting a few things, that's all. It'll come back to ya Miss Katniss, it will."

I glanced at my mother, who was clutching a napkin in her lap and staring out the window. "I hope it does," I replied. "Soon."

I was running.

As fast as I could, through the green forest, the ground a blur at my feet. The buzzing behind me continued, growing louder and loud.

Closer.

I panted and clawed at the trees, trying desperately to move them out of the way, but the buzzing got closer. I glanced over my shoulder to see if they were still coming. Their wings caught the light, urging me forward. The wasp-like creatures could anticipate my every move; soon, they would be at my heels.

The greenery at my sides turned into a blur as I moved through the woods. The buzzing got louder.

I panicked.

My legs turned to mush, my lungs like lead in my throat. I was on the ground, struggling and clawing to get away. The sound got closer and closer…

"Gah!" I gasped, sitting up. I panted a few times, my eyes scanning the room wildly for the golden colored wasps that were chasing me. "Just a dream," I breathed, wiping my eyes.

But the buzzing continued. I looked to the nightstand and saw the cell phone I had found in my purse before bed. The display was lit up as it vibrating on the small glass table. With a sigh of relief, I picked it up and looked at the screen. Peeta's smiling face shone back at me in the darkness, the caller ID stating 'Hubs'.

"Hubs?" I asked in disbelief. That didn't seem like me. Cautiously, I slid the screen unlocked and answered. "Hello?"

"Katniss!"

Peeta's voice rang through the phone, breathy and loud. I could hear people talking in the background, but couldn't make anything out.

"Katniss, are you there? Baby….please."

"Peeta, I'm here. What…what are you doing? It's almost two in the morning," I groaned.

"Katniss, I….I'm sorry honey, I just…missshu…." He slurred miserably.

I sighed and held the phone away from my ear slightly. I was on the phone with a very drunk Peeta. My heart twisted in my chest as I listened.

"I shouldn't be calling you but I just…I needed to her yerrr voice…" he mumbled. "I'm so sorry s'babe. I'm sorry."

"It's okay Peeta. You're not by yourself, are you?"

"No, s'okayyy….Finnick isss here with me. And Thresshhh…he said he's gon' carry me home. But I had to talk to you."

"Alright, well…I'm sorry too. You don't have to be sorry about anything. I miss you…." I paused, trying to judge if this was the right thing to tell him. "I miss you too."

"I hope…I hope yer mom knows that you love her so much," he slurred. "You do, Katniss, you do. Don't let them tell you youuu don't, because s'you do," he rambled.

"She's good, I just….I just want to spend some time with her. That's all. You understand this isn't because of you, right?"

I heard a loud 'thud' and then quiet. A man laughed and picked up the phone.

"Aw shit, he called her. Yo, Katniss you there?"

I balked. "Um, yes. Who is this?"

"It's Finn. I got Peet, he'll be alright. Sorry about the call, he said he had to go to the bathroom," he explained nonchalantly. "Your boy misses you."

I frowned. I had no idea who this 'Finn' person was. Was Peeta safe with him?

"I um….I'm sorry about all this. I didn't mean to upset him more. Are you sure he's…safe?"

"Oh yeah! Thresh and I will get him home."

"Thank you, um…Finn."

He chuckled. "You have no clue who I am, do you?"

"Er…no," I admitted. "I'm sorry. We know each other?"

He laughed sadly. "Yeah, I'm…Peeta's best friend. It's alright. Hey, you get back to sleep, okay? I'll get your boy home safe. Just…come back to him soon, alright?"

"All…all right," I stammered. He hung up the phone and I held my own in my hand and gaped at it.

Heartbroken Peeta had just drunk dialed me. I had no memories of why things with my family were so fucked up, and I wasn't getting any answers. My mother didn't know me, my sister was like an alien, and I was living with my ex-fiancé in a house straight from the Twilight Zone.

I curled myself into the closest pillow and cried myself to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

As the days passed, my bumps and bruises healed all the way. All that was left as a reminder of my accident was the gaping hole in my memory…and in my heart. I realized after my first week with them that almost any chance of my mother waking up from her trance were slim to none. She didn't know me, as much as I tried with her. My words and stories and pleas to help her somehow fell on deaf ears. So why did I stay? I guess I still had a sliver of hope that she would someday remember and come back. I had already lost my father, and in many ways Prim. I couldn't lose my mother as well. It didn't seem fair.

I dreamt that she would wake up and come back to me.

I would spend hours telling her the bits and pieces of my broken memory, talking until my head throbbed. I hoped and silently prayed that she would one day turn to me with a sliver of recognition and react. I held on to the notion that somewhere, trapped inside her mind, my mother was clinging to my words as a beacon of light and a motivation to someday wake up.

But she never did.

I was beginning to accept defeat, but I was stubborn. Too stubborn. How could I fail when it was my mother? This wasn't algebra; failure wasn't an option. This was family, and I couldn't give up on her. The same way I couldn't give up on Prim. Silly, vapid, materialistic Prim. Part of me blamed her and hated her and wanted to scream at her for being so shallow. How could she allow herself to get so sucked in to the web the Hawthornes had woven for her? Practically the one thing I could remember from my childhood was the sense of pride my parents had instilled in me. Never be ashamed to be who you are, they had told me. We were told to hold our heads high and not value materialistic things and pine after things we didn't have. Or, never could have. We were the Everdeens, and we were proud of who we were. My father had taught us that even those with all the money in the world still had problems; no one's life was perfect, nor was it what it always seemed. Prim and I had listened carefully and taken his words to heart. We had worn our threadbare thrift store clothes and played with second hand toys our entire lives and with our heads held high. Our parents worked hard for us to have what we did, and for the most part we always accepted it as a finality that we couldn't change.

I felt like Prim was ashamed of our past.

But then, parts of me understood. Prim, who never complained about endless hand me downs, socks that needed darning and not always enough to eat at night. The little girl who had gone almost five months with a cavity in her molar that we couldn't afford to fix. These details were blurry and fleeting, but I still knew them. She had gone without for her entire life, so of course she was completely taken with this lifestyle; it was plush and easy and comfortable. She now had things at her fingertips that hadn't been even a dream for her as a child.

I hated her for the way she behaved now, but I understood it. She had gone from having nothing at all to anything she wanted. There was a part of me that didn't begrudge her of that. In her mind, my mother was being cared for and she was living out her dream with her childhood crush. Prim was simply reaping the benefits of her situation after living with nothing for her entire life. I didn't blame her for wanting to enjoy it, but….at what cost?

I had been at the Hawthorne's for about a week. I would spend all day with Cora and my mother, and evenings with Prim and Hazelle. Gale was a workaholic and was never home, but that was alright.

I was avoiding Gale.

At night I would toss and turn in my plush room that they were letting me stay in, my mind fighting to remember. Prim would beg me to indulge her and enjoy their lavish new lifestyle. One day I had allowed her to drag me to a shopping center on the edge of town. It was full of fancy boutiques and high end jewelry stores and I would have never wanted to go there on my own. I had admired a scarf on a table until I flipped over the price tag and nearly choked. But Prim seemed so oblivious! The saleswomen fawned over her, bringing her new things to try on and oohing over her engagement ring. It was clear that the Hawthorne name meant a lot in this town. And my sister had loved every second of their doting. She had piled up the clothes and jewelry and shoes and just stupid things until I was about ready to burst. Then she had simply handed them a black piece of plastic with Rory's name on it.

I had to restrain myself from dragging her out by her hair.

But, the purpose of that day had been served. Sunday was the one day a week Gale didn't work, and he was home all afternoon. The shopping trip had kept me out of his line of vision the entire day and for that I was grateful. It wasn't that I knew we weren't going to eventually talk again. It was just something I was more than happy to stubbornly avoid.

I could see myself with Gale in my blurry memories. Hell, those were the last ones I had. But something had to happen for me to end up with Peeta.

Prim said we grew apart. Hazelle just said we had a tiff about something she was never sure of. But I could tell they wanted me back with Gale more than anything else. To make matters even more uncomfortable, I'm pretty sure Gale did too. He made that clear the day he finally cornered me in the library. I was sitting with my mother on the couch by the fire, reading silently at her side when he made his sly approach.

"You've settled in."

His voice startled me, making me jump and clutch my book. Gale was quiet and stealthy, and pretty much the only human being who could ever sneak up on me – that hadn't changed. His words were more a statement than anything.

I watched him cross the room, his strides long and full of purpose. I glanced over at my mother, who sat next to me on the leather couch. She held a botany book in her thin, frail hands, but her eyes had yet to even glance at the page. It was a book she would have died for when I was a child; thick, colorful pages and vibrant pictures mixed into and endless text of information. But now, she could only stare.

I swallowed the lump in my throat and watched as he made his way to the bar in the corner. The sunlight caught the brown liquid as it flowed into the crystal glass grasped in his palm.

"I have," I said simply, reaching over to turn a page for my mother. She glanced up at me in a haze, her eyes unreadable.

Gale ambled over, sitting across from us on the opposite couch. The Hawthornes had an extensive library in their new home, complete with a sitting area, a fireplace, and best of all – more books than I had ever seen in my life. That day was my fifth straight morning of coming here to read with my mother.

I bit my lip and watched her as she moved her eyes to Gale's. He quickly averted his gaze and moved his piercing stare to mine.

I spied the drink in his hand and raised an eyebrow. "Bit early for that, isn't it?"

He shrugged. "It's Sunday. I don't work on Sundays."

"Of course," I muttered. Gale had been noticeably absent for most of my time in the mansion, as had Hazelle's husband. The mines were clearly the most important thing to them now, and they made no secret of it. Even Prim's fiancé Rory had a high paying job in the offices downtown, and he was in his first year of college. Prim was completely and utterly wrapped around his finger. He needed only say one word and she would jump to his every whim.

It pained me to see how money had changed things so drastically.

"I wanted to apologize," he started. I looked up at met his eyes with surprise. Gale rarely apologized for anything. In fact, in my memory this was a first. When we fought as a couple, it rarely ended in an apology. Usually it ended in a marathon sex session that left us too utterly exhausted and spent to talk anymore. Then, it would blow over. Yes, Gale approaching me to apologize was certainly new.

"For?"

He swallowed as if he was swallowing his pride. I watched it scratch the insides of his throat all the way down. I could get used to watching Gale apologize.

"For the hospital. For the way I acted. It was uncouth of me to… well, to behave the way I did. I'm not a vulgar person."

I nodded – he was telling the truth. Gale was a lot of things – hot tempered, reckless, moody and passionate – but he was not vulgar indeed.

"I know that."

The room was so quiet I could hear my mother's soft breaths.

"I made an ass of myself, as usual."

"Yes, you certainly did."

Gale frowned, resembling a kicked puppy for a second. "Need I remind you he punched me first?"

"You deserved it," I reminded him. "You were egging him on and you know it. Come on Gale, that much hasn't changed."

"I don't want you to think badly of me. I reacted to seeing you…and him. My pride couldn't take it, Catnip. You know how I am about things like that."

"That's no excuse Gale. I don't condone fighting, especially over stupid things. But you pushed him. You just didn't think he would do it."

"Fine, fair enough. I said I was sorry, and I meant it. You of all people should know that I don't take my apologies lightly. When I'm wrong, I say it. And I was wrong to behave such a way."

I tried not to let my shock register on my face. The old Gale wouldn't have apologized so soon, if ever. I wondered what sparked this.

"Did you know I was married before the accident?"

He gave a curt nod. "I did. It was in the papers. I saw the announcement. I knew."

"And?"

"And what? I said I knew," he snapped.

I watched him frown into his drink. "So you knew. That doesn't tell me anything."

"What do you want from me?"

"I hardly think you and my husband fought each other over nothing, Gale. He might have hit you first but you deserved every bit of it. Why?"

His eyes flicked up to mine as he pondered my question for a few moments. "It made me crazy. So crazy, to think that… I'd lost you."

"I'm married. You did lose me. Or… I don't know. We lost each other," I said bitterly.

"I know that. And…I'm so sorry for everything. The hospital, your accident, just…everything."

"My falling out of a tree wasn't your fault."

"I know that. But I still feel….like it is, I guess. We used to hunt on Sundays, do you remember?"

I could only nod.

He continued, his voice tight. "We saved Sundays to go out in the woods. I blame myself for…I… I would have never let you fall out of that tree, Katniss. Part of me… a stupid part of me thinks that if I would have swallowed my pride and been there that day that this wouldn't have happened."

"Gale, I know we broke up a long time ago."

He nodded. "I know that. Listen, Katniss. I've done a lot of things the wrong way in my life. Some right, but mostly wrong. And the worst of it all is the fact that I lost you. And I didn't chase after you."

I looked away. "That's the thing about us hunters Gale. We're usually the ones doing the chasing. Not the other way around."

He stared at me for a moment before downing the brown liquid. I could smell the spicy flavor as he exhaled sharply, turning the crystal in his hands. "Right. Well…I guess that hasn't changed."

I watched as the woman across from me clicked her tongue as she tapped her pen on the arm of the chair. Her hair was arranged in a tight chignon that was teased on the top and her lipstick was the brightest pink I had ever seen. Her loud pink suit matched.

All in all, my new therapist Effie Trinket was the silliest woman I had ever met.

I eyed the degree on the wall and felt my eyes bulge as I read the title of the Ivy League School she had attended. My only thought was that she maybe had rich parents.

"So sad…so tragic," she moaned softly, her hand rising up to let her teeth chew the pen. Good lord, even her nails were pink.

"What?" I asked.

She didn't seem to notice that I hadn't been paying any attention. "To not remember anything. My poor dear…tell me how that makes you feel."

I frowned from my spot on the couch and struggled to find the words. It was obvious that Effie Trinket was out of her league here, so I would just have to indulge her for forty eight more minutes.

I could tell by the look in her eye it was going to be a long hour.

After a few more pointless days at my mother's side, Hazelle had gently suggested I see her therapist, Effie. I had more agreed to be polite rather than to seek actual help; however, I did secretly hope that a fresh perspective on my new life would be a step in the right direction. It had, to, right? So far, all Effie had done was ask me how I felt.

I didn't want to tell this twit how I felt. I wanted her to fix me, damn it.

"It makes me feel…um…sad. Yes. Sad," I answered briefly.

She pursed her pink lips. "Interesting," she said finally.

I rolled my eyes.

It was going to be a long hour.

I finished my hour of therapy and practically ran from the building. The sunlight was nearly blinding as I wrapped my scarf around my neck and pulled my coat tighter around my body. The days were getting colder as fall slowly trudged into winter. I wondered when the first snow would be.

I stepped out onto the sidewalk and glanced around, quickly finding my surroundings. I realized that I had been dropped off by Hazelle's personal driver and had made no plans for a return trip home.

"Crap," I muttered. My boots scuffed at the rough cement beneath my feet as I slowly made my way forward. I didn't know where I was going, but I didn't really want to go home, either.

Not home, I reminded myself. The Hawthorne's house is not home.

I had to face the reality of my situation. My mother didn't know me, and she made no sign that she would know me anytime soon. Anything I did to trigger her into some sort of state of awake did nothing.

So what was I doing there?

You're showing her the same kindness you would want.

She doesn't know you – she's gone forever.

You don't abandon family.

You do if all hope is lost.

My mind went back and forth, arguing with itself as I trudged along in the afternoon sunlight. People bustled around me, some moving fasters than others on the pretty, fall afternoon. I was in no hurry, I decided.

I walked along, blankly staring into store windows as I moved through the streets. It all looked familiar, but nothing stuck out. That is, until I saw him.

He didn't see me, but I saw him. His blonde hair glinted in the afternoon light that poured through the bakery windows. His unruly curls caught the sunshine as he grinned and chatted with customers on the other side of the glass. My eyes focused enough to see 'Mellark's Bakery' etched on the glass in front of me.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14: Jealousy

I stared through the glass, the cool breeze moving around me. People bustled about in the fall air, busy with their errands as they wove around my still form. There I stood, like a statue, watching as Peeta worked behind the glass.

After all, that was all that separated us. A layer of glass.

I wanted to shatter it with my bare hands and go running to him. I didn't know him any better than anyone else, but somehow the boy with the bread had made me feel safe in the few days I had known him. The hospital seemed like a million light years ago.

He was ringing up customers, chatting a little with each one. A vague memory of his father doing the same thing swirled in the back of my mind, but he was faceless to me now. Peeta moved behind the counter with ease, his limp from the accident just barely visible. He handed people their change with the bright smile I had grown fond of in the short time I had known him. It was bright, kind, and everything I wasn't.

I had abandoned him.

I didn't know him, but he knew me. Enough to marry me. And I had abandoned him.

Shame washed over me as I watched him grab another order and proudly hand the merchandise across to another waiting customer. My eyes widened slightly as I focused on the tall, leggy blonde on the other side of the counter. Her golden hair went to the middle of her back, her bright eyes sparkling as she flashed her straight, white, movie star teeth at him. Their hands brushed slightly as the exchange was made, and I felt something stir in me.

Jealousy.

She beamed at him wider and accepted the bag, but didn't leave. I felt myself frown as I stood dangerously close to the glass. He could turn and see me staring at him like a psycho stalker at any second….but I couldn't make myself leave. I watched as the blonde woman flicked her hair and bit the edge of her lip as he explained something, waving his hands animatedly. She would shift her weight and stick out her chest, ignoring the huffing woman behind her as she held up the line talking to my husband.

My husband.

I never was a girly girl or any type of a flirt, ever. But I knew flirting when I saw it. Peeta was talking, but she…she was flirting. He eventually bobbed his head and looked to the next customer, the blonde bimbo giving him another flirty wave. She pranced out of the store in her high heels and stylish clothes, her low hanging top exposed despite the cold. She brushed past my frozen form, the smell of her expensive perfume permeating the air around me for a brief second before getting blown away in the wind. The girl was beautiful, no doubt. Striking, even. She looked like the belonged on the arm of someone like Gale. He needed something flashy to match his big house. I felt two inches tall as she walked down the sidewalk through the crowd, her heels clicking loudly.

My eyes were pulled back to Peeta. The bakery was packed as he wrapped up breads and bagels and pastries, handing them over in little paper bags monogrammed with a fancy little letter 'M'. He was surviving without me. That's what I wanted, after all. I wanted him to go on with his life while I tried to get mine back. So why did it kill me?

I felt like I had been slapped in the face with my own stupidity.

I turned and walked in the opposite direction as fast as I could. That woman had been flirting with Peeta. My Peeta. But I couldn't do anything about it, nor could I blame him. I had left him to basically go with Gale and his family. And for what?

My mother didn't know me, and I wasn't sure who I was fooling anymore. I knew it wasn't myself.

I walked through the town for at least another hour, lost but not really lost in the sense most people would think of. I guess in a way my feet had led me back to a part of my 'forgotten new life', as I'd grown to think of it. The part of town I was in looked familiar, but only because I'd grown up here. I didn't spend a lot of time in the district; it was mainly cafes and restaurants and small little boutiques. I had come there once or twice with Gale, but that was all I could remember. My old home didn't exist, and the new home I had I wanted to avoid. With a sigh, I found a payphone and dialed the only number I could remember and prepared to swallow my pride. I didn't wait ten minutes.

As Gale pulled up in a shiny looking sports car I groaned. It was low to the ground, sleek, and black and reminded me of Gale somehow. Why was his the only cell number I could recall? I cursed under my breath as I lowered myself into the seat and avoided his gaze.

"Figured you'd call eventually. I got a call from Prim that you weren't at Effie's office when the car came to pick you up."

"They sent a car for me?"

He nodded as he pulled away from the curb. He shifted through the gears quickly as he navigated the streets, his dark eyes brooding. I looked out the window as the smell of leather mixed with pine invaded my senses. How was it that I still remembered something as inconsequential as how Gale smelled, yet I had no clues about my life? Life was playing a cruel joke, and at my expense. I slumped in the seat and watched the scenery flash by.

"If I ask where you've been, would you tell me?"

"Probably not."

"Where have you been?"

I ignored his question as he drove. I could tell he wanted to talk. After the library I had little to say to Gale, but he seemed to have other ideas.

"You seem upset."

I shook my head and tried to swallow the lump in my throat that was suddenly as hard as a rock. I had the feeling that you get right before you cry and you're trying not to because you'll be embarrassed; it felt like suffocating.

"Katniss, do you think you'll ever get your memory back?"

Looking over at him, I noticed his hopeful gaze. For a second he almost looked like the Gale I had known as a kid growing up. Pity that all the money and power had tarnished him the way it had. The Gale from our childhood was so different from the way he was now. He was fiercely independent, hopeful, and strong willed, but unfailingly kind when it came to his friends and family. I wasn't sure what to think of him now, to be honest.

"Are you hoping I get it back or not?"

He shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not sure. If having you not remember means I get to keep you with me, then…no."

I stared at his side profile as he drove and my voice cracked and raw as I spoke the only words my mind could conjure.

"You're a selfish bastard, Gale."

I got home to a panicky Prim and an even more alarmed Cora. They had no idea where I had gone, and apparently neither had Effie. I couldn't imagine what this little stunt would do to my medical chart. After much begging and persuading, Prim finally convinced me to join them for dinner in the main dining room. It was a quiet meal, only the four of us present. Hazelle was out with some of her high society friends and Cora had declined my urging to have her bring my mom up to the dining room. Gale sat at the head of the table; Prim and Rory across from me. I watched with a churning stomach as my sister doted over Rory and everything he said or did.

It made me ill to watch her.

"Rory, tell Katniss about your big promotion," she urged him during the soup.

Rory looked up at me with his dark gaze and shrugged. "I do the same job, but I get paid more. It's pretty sweet."

"Rory," Gale chided gruffly.

Rory shrugged at me as Prim bit her lip. Unlike Prim, Rory had pretty much always acted his age. I guess some things never change.

After dinner, I pulled Prim out onto the lanai where our mother sat. She looked hesitant to join us at first, but eventually relented and sat down on the couch. I sat on the footstool in front of our mom and took her hand. She only stared forward.

"Gale said he came to get you today."

"He had to," I nodded, "his was the only number I could remember."

"That's sweet," Prim cooed, crossing her ankles. She smoothed down the skirt she wore, picking at some lint on her tights. Why she was so dressed up to just eat dinner in her own home I didn't know. I rolled my eyes.

"No, his was the only number I could remember. Hadn't changed since we were teenagers," I repeated flatly.

Prim's gaze fell to her hands. "I'm sorry if being here is hard for you, Katniss. I am. It must be hard to still live with someone who you have…such unresolved feelings for."

"It's not weird. There are no feelings, Prim. None," I repeated. I blinked a few times and saw Peeta's face. Sighing, I took my mom's hand in my own and watched her stare.

"Do you ever wonder what she's thinking about?"

Prim sighed. "Yes, all the time. I used to come and talk to her, but…it's hard talking to a wall."

I glanced up at her. "I know."

An exasperated sigh left Prim's mouth. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you."

"You act like it."

I paused a moment, taking in my surroundings. The Hawthorne's house felt like an alien planet, and I felt like my sister had gotten a lobotomy. She was still Prim, but so few traces of my little sister lingered it was difficult to understand her.

"I don't understand you anymore Prim. I'll always love you, but I don't have to like you right now."

"What does that even mean, Katniss?!"

"It means that I don't get why you're here, with him, acting like this and pretending like all this stupid shit matters!" I hissed. "Look at you, Prim! This isn't you!"

Prim bit her lip as her blue eyes filled with tears. I immediately regretted my words, but what was I supposed to do? I was sick of watching my sister act like a vapid little princess.

"How dare you, okay? How dare you judge me? You left, alright? You went away to college and then dad died and then you refused to be around, and mom checked out, and I was left with nothing but your hand me downs!" she exclaimed. "I had nothing. You know mom didn't even get out of bed for a month, Katniss, a month. Do you know what that's like when you're only in junior high? To see your own mother like that? And when she did get up she was a zombie! Just like now," she cried.

"Prim," I hissed.

"Oh shut up, she can't tell. If she can, then good. She needs to hear this. You were gone, dad was gone, and she was gone. The only person who gave a shit about me was Rory, okay? He was there when you guys weren't. And then…when the money ran out and mom was still checked out…he helped me."

I listened as she wiped a few tears from her face, her pale cheeks suddenly bright red. She inched away from my mother on the couch, sniffing to herself.

"Prim…"

"I didn't have anyone. And he was there, and nice, and I was just so scared. And then…when things started happening for them I got so afraid he would leave me. I was afraid he would leave me in the dust, just like you had."

"Prim, I-"

"No, just wait. You were gone at college, dealing with your shit and I was stuck here. Rory rescued me. You know girls used to tease me in school for wearing the same clothes every other day? Yeah. They also laughed and pointed when my hair got greasy because I couldn't afford shampoo. I used to come to school to shower in the locker room every morning at six, just to use the school's soap. That was how little of a fuck everyone cared about little Prim."

I swallowed as the memory I didn't want came flooding back to me. I did remember that dark time and I can't say that I blame Prim. I was away at school, petrified to go home or be reminded of it. My father was everywhere. I remember bits and pieces of that time, but I mostly remember hiding. I hid from my home, my family, my pain.

I dipped my head and pictured my memory as a tangible space, hiding in the corner of my brain until it was safe to come out.

"I'm sorry, I….I misjudged you."

"No, you didn't," she cried quietly. Her shaky hand brushed her long hair away from her face. "Rory promised me…that I wouldn't ever have to be poor again. I'd never have to go without anything, or go to bed hungry, or worry about money. He promised to make it all okay again. And he has, Katniss. He's pieced me back together and I'm going to owe him for that forever."

I swallowed roughly and gripped my mother's hand. "But should you 'owe' the person you love?"

Prim sniffed again and looked away. "I don't know, Katniss. But I do. I owe the man I love for saving me."

Another week passed. Every day I spent with my mother, pleading her quietly to come back to me. I spent my nights in bed, sleepless and desperate for any hint of the past to come back to me, but it never did. I tiptoed around Prim after that, finding it easier to avoid her than to actually talk. It didn't feel right to pry for answers when she was obviously dealing with a lot. She hid her pain well, and Rory's simple, quiet ways complimented hers. He was immature and a bit selfish, but he wasn't unkind to her. He would say some really stupid things that made me want to smack him sometimes, but then he would take Prim's hand and squeeze it. I wasn't sure about their relationship, but yet I wouldn't begrudge her for it. Gale and I coexisted, but I refused to even look at him.

Then one night after dinner, he cornered me in the kitchen as I was getting a late night snack. Sleep was pointless anyway; all of my dreams were full of snow white rooms, spattered with blood. It would all eventually turn to the gritty blackness of a coalmine before exploding. I could only take so much of it.

Opening cabinet after cabinet, I was cursing to myself when Gale entered.

"Looking for something?"

I jumped. "No. I mean, yes. Do you have hot chocolate?"

He nodded and opened a cupboard, producing a packet. I gingerly accepted it and began making my drink.

"So…you're still wearing your wedding ring," he pointed out, picking up a glass. I let my gaze shift down to the counter where my hand sat, the gold band shining on my left hand. He filled the glass with milk from the fridge and sat at the counter as I waited for my water to boil. I eyed the kettle, silently willing it to move faster and just boil already.

"I'm married, Gale."

He raised an eyebrow. "Really? Guess I forgot. Have you heard from bread boy lately?"

I refused to let him get a rise out of me. That's what he wanted.

"He's giving me space."

"Ah, I see. Absence makes the heart grow fonder," he replied with a sarcastic grin.

"It sure does. Maybe I'll call him tomorrow, see what he's up to," I snapped. I eyed the kettle again. Maybe I didn't need hot chocolate. Maybe I just needed to punch Gale and leave. I mulled the idea over as he reached into his pocket.

"What's that?"

"It's yours," he answered, tossing the object onto the counter. It clinked a few times before settling on the white countertop. I picked it up and stared. A small ice rink shone back at me on the face of the diamond, blinding me for a second. The round, brilliantly sparkling diamond sat in a simple band of even more diamonds. The sheer size of it was overwhelming.

"First big thing I bought when we made it big. You couldn't believe it."

Gale's voice cuts through my thoughts. I turn it over in my hand and can only stare. This is the ring. This is my ring. I blinked and looked up at him. "Where did you get this?"

He smirked. "Had it in my pocket since you got here. Been waiting for the right time to give it to you."

I felt my stomach twist as I blurry memory surfaced. It was me and Gale, naked together. Rolling around in a bed in his old apartment, his ring on my finger and a promise of a new life lingering in the air.

"I was home from school that weekend. We were at your old place," I murmured.

He nodded. "It was about two months after….well, after. After your dad," he said slowly. "I ran out and bought this ring at the jeweler's downtown. That was before the first big check had even cleared. Everyone heard when we hit it big though, so everyone knew we were good for it," he said quietly. "I couldn't wait to give it to you."

"You asked me to marry you…and I said yes," I said slowly, glancing down at the ring. It sparkled in conformation.

"Yup," he replied sourly. "You said yes. Then…we were so happy. For once, we could finally be happy. Your dad was gone but I felt like for one second I filled a fraction of the void he left…died," he corrected. "For once I felt like I could make you whole again."

I stared at the ring, then at him. "Why are you telling me this? And showing me a silly ring?"

Gale swallowed a sip of the milk he had poured himself and shrugged. "I guess I just wanted to talk about it. I'm not showing it you, I'm giving it to you."

"What? No."

"It's your ring, Katniss. Not mine. I bought it for you to keep, not borrow. Take it."

"Gale, you know I can't…."

"Katniss-"

"Look, I get that there's some…unfinished stuff between us, alright? I get that. But I can't do anything about that right now. I'm trying to piece my life back together. Please respect that."

"Is it so wrong of me to want you to piece it back together the right way then?"

I fumed. How dare he assume that his way was the best? Typical Gale though, I suppose I shouldn't be shocked. Even as a poor coalminer's kid he had a horrible temper and a stubbornness that wouldn't quit. I guess that's why we were friends as kids.

"It might be the right way to you, but it isn't to me, alright? We broke up Gale, and I don't know the details, fine. But we did, and I have to trust myself that it was the right decision for me, I mean, why is that so hard for you?"

"Maybe because we belong together, huh? Did that ever occur to you? Did you ever once stop to think that maybe life has given you a second chance to do it all over? That maybe marrying him on a whim was wrong?"

"No, Gale, it didn't. How dare you assume that?"

"You knew him what, five minutes? That's right, you don't even know. He's your husband and you don't even know him Katniss! What does that tell you?!"

"Fine, Gale, you win. I'm married to a stranger and I don't have a fucking clue why. Are you happy?"

He shook his head and downed his drink. "I'm not. I just want you to be happy. I want you to take a second chance and take that ring back," he said, pointing to my hand.

I turned the ring over in my fingers and shook my head. "No. I don't want it. I've got a ring now," I answered, placing it on the counter. My gold band on my left ring finger suddenly seemed to burn against my skin. I could remember the look on Peeta's face when he pointed it out to me in the hospital; I had crushed his heart when I said I didn't remember it. The only thing I was hurting of Gale's was his pride.

"Fine," he said finally, taking another sip of his drink. "But I offered. I wanted you to have it. If that makes me an asshole, then fine. I'm an asshole."

With that, he took a bow and walked out of the kitchen. It took me almost a full ten seconds to even realize that the kettle was screaming on the stove. After making my hot chocolate, I hurried back upstairs. If I was desperate when I woke up from my coma, I was a woman possessed. I tore open my bag of clothes from the hospital, digging through anything I could find. Receipts, letters, mail, maybe something that would trigger a memory. I wanted enough proof that Peeta and I belonged together before I made up my mind to go home with him and ditch this charade. That's what it was – a charade. My mother didn't know me and my past life was haunting me here.

I emptied every pocket, every crevice, and every corner of the bag. I found a receipt for coffee two days before my accident. Slumping down on the floor, I feel myself crumbling. This can't go on forever, and I know it. Being with my mother isn't helping her or me. Frustrated, I sat up and reached for the cell phone beside my bed and looked at the time. It was the middle of the night by now, and all I was doing was upsetting myself further and not making any progress.

Unless….

My eyes fall to the phone in my hand and I get an idea. I scrolled through the contacts and recent calls. A few names I don't recognize are dotted in-between the countless calls to 'hubs'. Figuring that's Peeta, I open a few to see the conversations. They're mostly from him and are quick and to the point.

I got dinner. Is it bad some nights we only eat cheese buns?

Meet you there in 5. I'm covered in flour.

Love you always. Have a nice day.

I stare at the last text and scroll down to see my response. There, in plain font are my words:

Love you always, Peeta Bread.

Then, every few texts there is another type of text that I don't understand. We must do this often, for there are only two lines to the conversation each time.

Real or not real?

And I always responded with 'real'.

I let the phone drop slightly and frown into the darkness. What did that mean?

It was clear that I loved him, or…I did at one point. I knew myself – I didn't take that phrase lightly. It had taken me almost a year to say it to Gale in the way that I didn't mean it as just friends. I knew that I wouldn't have said this to Peeta unless I really, truly, honestly meant it. That comforted me a little.

I took the phone and placed it on the nightstand before crawling back into the plush bed. If I loved Peeta Mellark once, what's to say I couldn't do it again?


	15. Chapter 15

I awoke in the middle of the night to more dreams of blood and roses.I wandered from room to room, a sickening feeling of dread settling over me. I was in the Hawthorne's mansion, except everything was white. The walls, the furniture, the carpets, even the vases on the mantle. My voice would catch in my throat as I tried to scream out for help, but there was no one there. In the last room I checked there was a vase of blood red roses on the table. Slowly, they began to ooze a thick red liquid. Soon the entire room was spattered in blood. I knew it was a dream as it was happening; I silently begged my eyes to open and for me to wake up, but my heavy sleep kept pulling me back under. I remained in the white rooms with blood streaked walls for what seemed like hours.

Trapped.

My legs failed me as I tried to run; they felt like lead sticks attached to my body.

"Help!" I cried. "Help, somebody!"

Usually no one came. But this time, someone did.

Peeta limped into the white room, his blue eyes wild as he ran the best he could towards me.

"Katniss!"

I reached out, my hands open and clawing towards him, somehow knowing that if I could just reach him…

"Katniss!"

"Ah!" I gasped, sitting straight up in bed. I was panting, my hands gripping the sheets wildly. It was just a dream.

"That's all," I whispered, "a dream."

I glanced around the white room with a queasy stomach. The walls of my temporary bedroom in the Hawthorne mansion were eerily painted the same color as the one in my nightmare. But there were still no roses anywhere. My room seems to suddenly reek of them and it was making my stomach turn. I twisted the sheets in my hand as I contemplated this dream, for it had been different.

Instead of no one answering my pleas for help, Peeta had come. He had tried to save me from my bloody nightmare. I could still see the helpless, panicked look in his eyes as he had run towards me.

Peeta wanted to help me, both in my dream and in reality. I was done being stupid and ignoring what was right in front of me. I didn't know Peeta better than anyone, but somehow I knew he could help me.

If I would let him.

Grabbing my phone, I quickly wrapped myself in a terrycloth robe and slipped out onto the balcony of my room. The chilly night air hit my cheeks and woke me the rest of the way up. I gripped the armrest of the wrought iron chair and slipped down into it to concentrate. Scrolling through the contacts, I realized I didn't know most of them. Except for one. When I saw the word 'hubs' I instantly pressed 'send'.

He answered on the second ring.

"Ello?" he mumbled.

"Peeta?" I ask. My voice sounds shaky and pathetic as I try to wrap the robe tighter around my body. I was suddenly hit with the overwhelming urge to cry. His voice sounded warm and familiar somehow.

"Katniss? What time is it? Baby, what's wrong?"

I pause at his groggy term of endearment before speaking again. My heart clenches in my chest. "I...I had a bad dream. I couldn't sleep….I…I don't know."

He's quiet, listening to me talk. An awkward silence passes as my words get caught in my throat. Thankfully, he is patient and waits for me to talk.

"I had a nightmare."

He sighed. "Yeah, I've had a few of those lately too. Do you want to tell me about it?"

I closed my eyes and was instantly greeted with the all too familiar scenery of blood spattered white walls.

"No."

"Ah," he sighed, "that bad?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry babe. I'm so sorry."

I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to continue.

"I'm just tired of not remembering. I'm tired of being in the dark and…and of struggling with this. This is my life and I…I can't do anything but watch it spiral out of control," I blubbered as hot tears spilled down my cheeks. I leaned back in the chair and wiped my eyes on my sleeve as the wind picked up.

"Where are you?"

"I'm outside, on a balcony. I just needed to get out of there…too many things I should remember but don't."

"It's okay. No one expect you to remember yet, Katniss, you just….give it time. It will all come back."

I choked on my fresh set of tears and gasped. . I wish that was the truth, but it wasn't. Every day I have to look into the faces of people who expect me to remember and I don't. I felt like an utter failure at my own life – something that should be simple.

"But what if it doesn't?"

"Katniss, it's okay honey just…I'm so sorry you're upset. I'd help you if I could, you know that right?"

Somehow, I do.

"I think so."

"I'd do anything to make you happy again. I would."

I sniffed and wiped my nose on the warm robe and try to collect myself. "Can we talk about something else?"

There's a rustling noise as he moved around on the other end of the line and cleared his throat. "Sure."

Leaning back in the chair, I touched my fingers to my icy feet and sighed. "Tell me how we met. Is it a nice story?"

"I think so. I tend to think I got the better end of the deal, but…I think it's a nice story," he chuckled softly.

"Tell me."

He sighed into the phone, sniffing before he continued. His voice is throaty and raspy with sleep as he talks, and it calms me. "Okay, well…I was still working at my dad's bakery, over on Pine Street – you remember that, right?"

"I do," I answered. And I did – my father used to take me to Mellark's Bakery almost every weekend for fresh pastries and bread. I used to love to admire the cakes. I could faintly remember it, and that was comforting.

"Right, well…I'd just finished college and I was back at work. You came on the weekends sometimes to buy fresh bread. French, and some apple cinnamon bagels."

"Those sound good."

"They are…After you came back twice in one week to buy them; I told my dad I wanted to start making them. I think you were maybe home from school for the summer and you started coming in more and more."

"And?"

He sighed. "And after that, you came back in three times a week. You'd come in and flirt with me shamelessly when you were home from school. I didn't realize it at the time, but I think you would come back to town to visit your fiancé's family."

"Peeta Mellark, I know you're lying!" I laughed and shook my head. "I do not flirt with guys. Come on. Did I even know you were alive?"

"God no. I was always the klutzy guy behind the counter that I'm sure you were oblivious to. Until one day I finally worked up the nerve to make conversation. You were a lot nicer than I thought you would be."

"Was I mean?"

"No," he chuckled, "you were just always very businesslike and closed off. But beautiful. Always beautiful. You were the first person I ever met with gray eyes."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Well…that went on for about six months, and one day I finally asked you out."

"What did I say?"

He snorted. "You told me you had a fiancé. And then I spied the rock on your hand and just about died. I guess you had just gotten engaged that week, and…I was kicking myself."

My heart panged as I tried to picture the scenario. Poor Peeta.

"Well….anyway, I was so bummed for weeks. Months. You still came in when you were home though, and talked to me like nothing happened. You were very sweet about it. I think you felt bad for me after that, cuz you were suddenly a lot nicer."

I giggled to myself and bit my lip.

"You told me about him. About Gale," he sighs. "But nothing personal or anything. Just in passing. It hurt to hear you talk about another guy, but I was just so….head over heels for you that I would always find something nice to say when I really just wanted the guy to step in front of a bus."

"Peeta!"

He laughed. "Well no, but…I wanted him to go away. But no, I…I talked to you. Then as time went on, you changed. You were different.

"Different how?"

"Not as…you. You didn't seem as happy. I don't know what it was. But you didn't seem very much yourself anymore. Looking back now, that was around the time your dad…."

"Oh," I say sadly.

"Yeah. We stayed friends though. I didn't see you for a while. You didn't come home for a long time after that. I thought you had forgotten about me. You don't talk about you family a lot, so I don't know much about them."

"I vaguely remember not wanting to come home a lot after he died. I avoided home…and neglected Prim."

"I know that now," he said. "But at the time I didn't. I didn't get it. But then you showed up again one day out of the blue after all that time. We were friends again, saying hello and whatnot. Then….I don't know, one day you came in about an hour before closing and you just looked at me. You were happy finally. Your smile reached your eyes and I was just….awestruck by how beautiful you were. Then you looked at me and just said, "You're taking me on a date'."

I burst out laughing. "I did what?!"

"Yeah," he laughed. "You just looked at me and told me I was taking you out. I think I asked if you were serious, and you said yes. I threw my apron down and jumped over the counter and we left right there. I was covered in flour and probably smelled like a cupcake but you…you didn't care."

"Oh lord….well was it good?"

Peeta sighed on the other end of the line. "Katniss, as far as first dates go…this was the best. I took you to this little Italian place over near the square. The food was good and we shared a bottle of wine and just….it was magic," he said softly, his voice laced with awe. "We clicked, right there at the dinner table. I just…I knew you were it for me, right then. It was all so perfect, I just….I couldn't have planned it better."

"What do you mean?

"I mean…." He sighed, picking his words. "The girl of my dreams was about to marry another guy, and then she dropped off the face of the earth. I panicked, I mean…I didn't even know your last name for that whole time. I thought I'd never see you again. I pictured this fiancé slash husband of yours whisking you away to some exciting city on the other side of the country, living some lavish life that I could never compete with. You'd never come back, and why would you? I'd built him up in my mind to be this amazing person."

"Why?"

He chuckled. "He'd have to have been to get someone like you to marry him."

"That's not true, Peeta."

"It is, and I knew it. I was heartbroken. Just shattered, you can ask anyone. But then there you were again, and you were the one asking me out. It was more than I could have ever even hoped for, ya know?

"Yes."

He sighed. "I wasn't about to let you go twice."

"Sounds romantic."

"It was. But anyway…then I drove you home in our delivery truck that we use, you know, to take the cakes?"

"Yeah."

"Well I drove you home and I had it all planned out to be gentlemanly and just kiss your hand….and you just launched yourself at me."

"I did not!"

"I swear it. You launched yourself at me, right there in the bread truck. Oh, it was great. I haven't looked at the truck the same way since."

"You're joking."

"I am not. We made out in the bread truck for an hour. You tasted like wine and chocolate."

"Chocolate? I thought we ate Italian?"

"Well yeah, we had dessert. I had just found the girl of my dreams, you think I didn't buy her dessert too? Dream on," he laughed. "We had chocolate cake. Damn good chocolate cake."

"That sounds like a perfect first date."

"It was. I had chapped lips for a week after, and I didn't even care. We just…we couldn't get enough of each other."

I sighed into the phone and pulled the robe tighter. "I'm sorry I'm not her."

"Who?"

"The girl you…the Katniss you had back then. I want to be her, I just…you get why I'm not, right?"

He sighed. "I get it. I'm a stranger to you. A probably crazy sounding stranger to you. But….it's okay. We'll get through it."

I swallowed and felt tears prick my eyes at the level of hope he has. "We sounded happy."

Peeta swallows audibly. "We were," he said, his voice laced with wistfulness. "We were so happy, and just crazy about each other. You were so reserved and careful, and I worried I would smother you and scare you away for so long. But I had never felt anything like that in my life and I just…I couldn't hold back. I loved you like crazy."

"What did I do?"

"You loved me right back."

My hand shakes as I switch the phone to my other shoulder. I'm freezing at this point, but I don't want to miss one second of hearing his voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he chided.

"I walked by your bakery the other day."

Peeta inhales. "You did? Why didn't you come in?"

I scratched my head and winced. "You were um…talking with some woman."

"So? I would have liked to see you, you know that."

"She…she was flirting with you. A blonde woman. Tall."

Peeta sighed on the other end of the line. "Oh. Yeah, I know her. Glimmer. She used to date some big pro athlete, everyone thinks she's neat…she flirts with me all the time. But so? You should have come inside and staked your claim," he chuckled.

"No, I couldn't….Would you…would you ever date her? Someone like that?"

Peeta immediately started sputtering on the other end of the line. "What?! Katniss…no. I'm married!" he quickly exclaims, his voice surprised. "I'm very much married, and I don't even like to um…browse, thank you."

I bite back my tears and nod. He's trying to be funny but his endearing words are tugging at my heart. "What if…what if your wife doesn't have a clue who you are?"

Peeta heaved another sigh. "I'm still married, Katniss. Even if you don't know me right now, I…I took a vow to love you and only you forever. Do you hear me?"

"Yes," I say quietly.

"I intend to keep it. I took them seriously. Some dumb, leggy blonde who probably only wants free doughnuts isn't going to change that."

"I just…I saw you talking to her and I just…it was upsetting," I admitted, sniffing. I felt so incredibly stupid for being so insecure and girly, but it felt good to finally talk to someone.

"Glimmer means nothing to me, Katniss. Even if I was single, I wouldn't even dream of it. Not my type."

"What is your type?" I asked through my sniffles.

He snorted. "Dark and Petite. Falls out of trees, likes cheese buns."

I felt a tear slide down my cheek. "You mean it?"

"Of course I do honey-Erm, Katniss. I really do. Besides…why have spam when I can have filet mignon?"

It takes me a second to realize what he means. I'm the filet. I'm the best – not her. "You think I'm expensive meat, huh?"

He chuckles sadly on the other end of the line. "Yes, I do. I waited so long for you to notice me and…and to not marry him. Now that I have you I would never give you up."

Leaning against the cold metal chair I inhale and feel the early morning air burn against the trails that my tears have left on my cheeks. I don't want to be here anymore. But where else can I go? A pink light in the distance suddenly catches my eye.

"Oh! The sun is rising!"

"It is?" he asks. "Already?

"Yes. Oh God Peeta, I've talked your ear off half the night. I'm…sorry," I stutter.

"It's okay. My alarm was about to go off anyway…besides…this is the best wakeup call I've gotten in a while."

"I'm sorry. I….I didn't forget about you, I just…needed to work some things out. You know that, right?"

"I know. I told you I understood, Katniss. I meant it."

I heard movement on the other end of the line. I could faintly make out the sound of his joints cracking and the sound of his footsteps as he gets up and walks somewhere. "We have a balcony too," he explained. I hear a door slam and he returns. "There."

"There what?"

"Now we're both watching the sun rise."

"The same one," I echoed. "It feels like you're far away."

He inhaled deeply, and I can picture the forlorn look in his blue eyes. "I'm only on the other side of town," he said lightly. He made it sound like he was only a block away. I suddenly yearned for him.

"Katniss, the last thing I want is for you to be upset. Or…or unhappy."

I nodded, forgetting he was on the other end of the phone call and not sitting next to me. I wiped my cheeks again and held the sleeve up to my chilly nose. I spoke without thinking.

"I wish you were here."

He smiled, or at least he sounds like he does, and cleared his throat. "I wish I was too."

"What would you do?" I asked tentatively. "If…if you were here with me?"

A few seconds of silence passed and I listened to his breaths on the other end of the phone.

"You really want to know?"

"Yeah."

There's a pause. "I'd…I'd hold you against my chest and hug you and tell you everything is going to be alright. I'd stay with you and watch the sun rise and I'd….I'd just hold you…. That's what I would do, Katniss," he replies softly. His voice is low and scratchy, and I know he must be exhausted, but I can't make myself hang up.

I smile against the phone. "That sounds nice," I admit slowly. My throat is rough and course as I swallow, my body yearning to be backed up against Peeta's broad chest and feel it's warmth against my back.

"Anytime you want," he offers with a soft laugh. "You have your own baker at your disposal. I even make breakfast. Not that…not that you would spend the night…I guess it would be your house too, I-"

"Peeta," I laugh, "It's okay. I get what you mean. It all sounds nice. Very nice."

"You can come home anytime, babe. But take all the time you need. Your mom…she needs you."

"She doesn't know who I am. Neither does Prim. I feel like I've been gone for decades Peeta," I whisper, a fresh set of tears springing to my eyes. A wave of bitterness washes over me. My old life no longer interests me. It's the new one with Peeta that does.

"Give it time. No one is rushing you."

"I know but…I feel like I'm losing time. I've already lost so much, I just…I want my life back."

"I know you do. Believe me, I…these past few weeks haven't been the same without you. I feel…so lost without you. You're my other half, you know."

"You mean without her."

"Who?"

I sighed. "The old me. You don't miss the new me you miss the old me."

"You're still you. You just… plus a bump on the head and minus a few details."

I grinned through my tears. "I guess. How can you be so positive?"

He chuckled. "Isn't it obvious?"

"I….I mean…

"I'm head over heels for you. I won't let something this small change my mind."

"This isn't small, Peeta."

He heaved another sigh. "You're alive. You're breathing. You're not hurt. Trust me…this is small. There are a lot of people out there who have less than I do and….that's gotta hurt."

There's a lengthy silence after that, and for a while I don't try to fill it. He sighed. "I miss you. I miss our life together. I know that's weird for you, but….I do. I miss you so much, Katniss."

"It's weird, yes, but…also nice. It's nice to be missed, I guess."

"Well, consider yourself missed. These past few weeks….I haven't been myself. You make me better, you know that?"

I laugh. "How can you be so wonderful? If it makes you feel any better, I'm pissed at myself for forgetting you."

"Falling out of trees is something you should aim to avoid in the future," he chuckled.

I pulled the robe tighter around myself and sighed. "Thank you for talking to me tonight. I really…really needed someone to talk to."

"I'm here for you."

"I know, I know," I smiled, letting my face drop into my hand. I scanned the colors in the sky as the sun began to peek over the horizon. "Peeta?"

"Hmmm?" he asked sleepily.

"Do you think…that….that I could maybe….stay with you awhile?"

He paused, sucking in a breath. "You mean…you want to come home?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I want to try it. See if…see if it helps. My mom…Peeta, my mom doesn't know me. Gale is…being how he was in the hospital."

I heard him shift on the chair he was sitting in. "Did he…he didn't bother you, did he?"

"No, no, nothing like that. But…he wants me to be someone I'm not. Someone I….can't be for him anymore. I loved him once, but…not anymore."

"Oh," he breathes lowly.

"You're not like…jealous, right?"

"No. I mean…well…no. I'm just glad he's being…good. Even if you still don't remember me, you are still in fact….my wife."

"Yes, I am," I smiled, peeking down at the gold band on my finger. "What does that entail?"

Peeta laughed. "It means that if a guy…any guy makes you upset, I'm contractually obligated to kick his ass. Or attempt. I duno, Gale had a few inches on me."

"He did mention that his nose still hurts. He had two black eyes for a few days."

"Is it bad that I'm not sorry?" he asked quietly.

I snorted. "No, not at all. He deserved it."

"Okay."

"So…you really want to come home?"

I nodded. "I do. I want to try it out. See what life….with Peeta is like. Maybe I'll remember something that will trigger a memory."

"And what happens…if….if you do remember?"

I think over his question for a moment, pondering its meaning. I realize what he's asking: what if I do remember, and what if I don't like it?

"Peeta…I'm scared too. I'm scared of remembering, but…I'm more afraid to forget it all completely."

"I know what you mean," he said quietly.

"But…were we happy?"

"You and me?"

"Yes."

He sighs. "Honestly, Katniss….I still feel like I'm waking up from a good dream. I didn't think life got any better than how it was with you. It was just the two of us against the world, but….we had each other, so it didn't matter. Not one bit. But it's still that way, don't you see? We still have each other. And that's more than I thought I would have a few weeks ago. I'll always be here for you, no matter what you do…or don't…remember."

I smiled, shaking my head. "Did someone make you up?"

He laughs. "No. Remember, I'm the one that had to convince you to date me."

"I fell pretty fast though, right?'

"We both did."

"Okay…well it's happening again."

I heard him laugh softly. "I hope so. So when can I pick you up?"

"You know where the Hawthorne's live?"

"Everyone knows where the Hawthorne's live, Katniss."

"Okay then. Not today…I need one more day with my mom. But…tomorrow? Say eleven?"

He laughs. "That's…Saturday. I can have Rue work for me, so that will be fine. We'll have the whole weekend together then. I'll be there with bells on."

"Deal. Well…I'll see you then?"

"Try and stop me."


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Coming Home

There's a buzz and click before I hear Cinna's voice in the speaker by my ear.

"You can relax now. We're all done."

I exhaled sharply and squeezed my eyes shut as I was pulled out of the large machine. It moved so that I could climb out and finally relax – I was finished. A nurse helped me while Cinna stood on the other side of the glass, looking at a computer monitor and scribbling down some notes. I was having another set of tests done at the hospital that day and of course they included my least favorite thing – an MRI. As a person who thought of themselves as slightly claustrophobic, they were a bit much for me. Last time, Peeta had been there to keep me company, I thought. I smiled slightly as I remembered he was picking me up the very next day. I was completely exhausted from spending a majority of the night out on the balcony on the phone with Peeta, but I couldn't make myself mind one bit.

In fact, it was difficult to ignore the warm, fuzzy feeling that shot through me at the thought of his voice and soothing words. I didn't consider myself a really 'mushy' type of person – at all. I didn't love getting flowers, I hated sappy movies, and usually couples making out or kissing in public made me want to puke. I wasn't a normal girl; that type of stuff just had never appealed to me. And that was fine. One of the few things I could remember about Gale was the fact that he was very no-nonsense and technical. He didn't care for displays of affection, he never wanted to 'cuddle', and he thought giving flowers was silly because they would eventually die anyway.

And from what I remembered, that was fine with me. I didn't go for any of that anyway, so there was really no major loss. And yet here I was, smiling giddily like a sappy school girl with a crush that had just smiled at her. I couldn't stop thinking about Peeta – and the fact that they next morning he would be arriving to pick me and take me home. Being with Peeta was the only time I had felt even remotely safe and relaxed after waking up with a blank slate. I guess I had just been too blind or panicked to realize what a horrible decision I was making by going home with Gale.

I hoped Peeta could forgive me.

"I'll have the results in a few," he explained once I'm back in the exam room. I nodded and watched Cinna as he methodically washed his hands and dried them.

"So how have you been feeling?"

I bit back a wave of emotion. How did I describe the last month I had spent with the Hawthornes? Tiring, frustrating, excruciating at times? Cinna would write me off as a crazy woman and have me locked up.

"Um…overwhelming," I said honestly. "And I get a lot of headaches."

He nodded. "That's probably due to the slight swelling I'm sure you still have. That's normal. Anything else?"

"No, not really. Nightmares, blurry memories. Sometimes I remember flashes of the past, but they're…just blurry," I repeated. "It's like trying to know someone I've never met. It's so….I can't remember much as far as details, but major life events I…remember up until about two years ago."

He listened intently as I talked, detailing my last month. I explained about my mother and my need to help her, but Cinna can tell I'm quickly growing frustrated.

"Katniss, a lot of times when people suffer a trauma like that….they take a while to come back. Sometimes not at all, if they ever do."

"Believe me, I'm realizing that."

"Have you given any more thought to returning home?"

I looked up. "To Peeta?"

Cinna nodded. "Yes. That might help trigger something you need to get your memory back."

I inhaled deeply and rubbed my hands against my worn jeans as I tried to not sound like a lunatic. "I thought going home to see my mom would…I don't know….I thought we could find our way back together I guess. I thought…well, a lot of things really."

"And?"

"And it was silly. She doesn't know me, and it's time I got used to that. I felt like I had to at least try to help her. I got a second chance at life, and I thought that…well….I thought maybe she was the reason I didn't die out there in the woods. I thought maybe I'd been given a chance to try to help her out of…whatever this is."

Cinna watched me closely. "I don't think you should give up on her by any means, Katniss. I think you're probably right thought. You can help her by spending time with her and trying to talk to her. But you shouldn't blame yourself for her condition."

"I don't, really….I'll keep visiting her, but…you were right. I should have gone home with Peeta in the first place."

"Do you have plans to actually do that?" he asked gently. I looked into his warm brown eyes, strangely trusting them.

"Yes. Tomorrow morning, actually. He's picking me up and bringing me…well…home, I suppose."

Cinna gave me another knowing nod. He knew so much without being assuming, which I liked. I listened to his even breaths as he sat in the chair opposite mine and took all of this new information in.

"I think that's very wise. And there's nothing wrong with trial and error, Katniss. You've been very brave in a very difficult situation. You waking up and not remembering anything was really the bravest thing I've ever seen. Anyone else would have buckled."

I snorted. "Did you not see me go crazy?"

Cinna bit back a smile. "Well, you handled it better than most people would. I admire your strength. You only tried to help your mom, and there's nothing wrong with that. It's not working, so you're trying something else. As I said – trial and error. You did the best you could with what you'd been given. You're making steps to improve, and I think that's all we can do at the moment."

After my doctor's appointment with Cinna, I was taken in the black Lincoln to an appointment with Effie. There I was, with more feelings and dealing with things from my past…I think I rolled my eyes more in one session with her than I had in all of my years so far. She was nice but just so ridiculous it made me laugh. Afterwards, I was driven home to the Hawthornes for the last time.

"I can't believe you're leaving already," Prim mumbled. We had spent the rest of my last day with our mother, but now we were in my bedroom as Prim watched me pack.

"I'm just going to try living with Pe-…my husband for a while. See if that fixes things a little," I told her. Our interactions the past few days had been limited. I understood her a little better for her choices, but that didn't mean I approved of them in the least. I still thought her being in this house with Gale and Rory was a toxic combination, but I knew she wouldn't be swayed.

Prim's childhood and teen years had hurt her too badly, and now Rory was her safety net.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm packing, aren't I?"

She heaved a sigh and lifted herself up onto my fluffy, made bed. I wasn't sure who came in every day and made it, but it was like living in a hotel. It seemed so wasteful to have new sheets and towels every single day, but I figured it was the norm here.

I wouldn't miss a lot of things about this house.

"Packing for what?"

Prim and I both turned around to see Gale standing intrusively in the doorway. He loomed over the threshold, his dark eyes scanning the room. They fell on my bag that sat overflowing on the bed and he stepped inside.

"Katniss is going home."

Gale clenched his jaw and lifted his chin in an arrogant manner. "I thought her to be home already."

I shrugged. "You thought wrong."

I still hadn't healed from our little tiff in the kitchen the night before when I had refused to accept his engagement ring back. He had left for work before I got up, so this was the first time I'd seen him all day.

"Prim, will you excuse us?"

My sister huffed but said nothing as she was promptly dismissed from the large room. I wondered if this was what her life would be now; instead of being poor, she would spend her days under Gale and Rory's thumbs, being dismissed and called like a dog. I shook my head and sighed. That wasn't my battle anymore. She pulled the door shut behind her and the loud click of the handle resounded in the room. He made his way across the room and stopped a few feet in front of me.

"You know…we'll never solve anything if you keep running away."

"I'm not running, I'm going home," I snapped, yanking a drawer open. "There's a difference, you know." The lamp on top of it rattled as I jerked my clothes out of it and closed it with a snap.

"You ran last time, and you're running this time Catnip. We both know it."

I sighed and let my shoulders drop. "Gale, I'm not going to argue. I'm done with it. I'm going home to Peeta and there isn't anything you can say that will stop me."

He pressed his lips together and furrowed his dark eyebrows. His strong jaw flexed as he searched for the right words that would make me regret my decision. Little did he know, there were none. My mind had been made up.

"What if I said I still loved you?"

I paused, his words registering in my mind. One day, that would have worked. Gale professing his love for me would have made my knees quake and my heart pound. Sadly, today it did neither.

"You don't. You love the old me, and that girl is gone."

"You're still you, Katniss. And I do – I love you."

"No, you love who I used to be. I'm not that girl anymore for a reason. I'm…I'm not sure what that reason is, but I'm just not. We broke up Gale. And I have to trust that we did that for a reason."

"Haven't you heard of second chances?"

I sighed as I jammed the rest of my clothes into the bag. "Yes, but there's no sense in backing the Titanic up and hitting the iceberg twice."

He was silent after that, his hard face like a stone. After a few minutes, he nodded to himself. "I never thought you would quit me the way you did. I never thought we'd quit each other."

"Neither did I…once. But Gale….our relationship wasn't a relationship. It was time between blowups and fights."

"And sex."

"That too. But I can't live like that."

He sighed. "I guess then 'love means never having to say you're sorry', right? I feel like all we do or ever did was apologize to each other. I suppose I should take that as a hint."

I nodded. "We're good, just not together Gale."

He was silent again for a few moments, his dark eyes scanning the room and looking anywhere but at me.

"Do you love him?"

"Peeta? I don't know. I guess I'm going to find out."

"And the fact that I love you…that doesn't mean anything?"

I hoped my silence was answer enough. Gale nodded in defeat and stood, closing the distance between us. I was frozen, partly in fear and shock in what he would do. Slowly, he pressed his lips against my forehead and whispered, "Then go. Be with him. But just know that…a part of me will always belong to Katniss Everdeen…no matter how much distance you put between us."

He left after that, his words hanging in the air and the place he had kissed still burning. I couldn't deny that I hated him and loved him at the same time. Gale was a part of my history, and nothing would take that away. I needed to live in the present, because that was all I had. I was just ready to move on. The old me and finally…the new me.

"When did he say he would be here?"

"I told you Prim, eleven."

"He's late."

"He is not. It's ten fifty. Ease up."

Prim stepped away from the front door and surveyed my casual attire and bag with so many clothes I couldn't zip it. Prim had insisted I keep a few of her essentials I had borrows while I was there – a black pencil skirt, a pretty scarf, a few jackets, and some of the best pajamas I'd ever felt. I felt guilty for taking such pretty things from her, but she insisted they could be easily replaced.

"Are you sure about this?"

I sighed. "Yes. I'll be back on Wednesday to see mom. I'm not abandoning her, Prim. I just want to see what life is like with Peeta, that's all."

She nodded. "We'll miss you. It was nice to have you back…finally."

I turned to her and watched her face turn sad, much like she used to do when she was little. Her big blue eyes would fill with tears and her bottom lip would jut out, almost always ensuring she got what she wanted. I hugged her just as a car pulled up outside. I turned around to see Peeta jump out of a nineteen seventies Chevy truck. I heard Prim inhale sharply as he bounded up the front steps of the Hawthorne mansion like he owned the place. He peered through the glass of the front door and spied us standing there.

Cora rushed over to open the door for him. She pulled him inside with a holler and pulled him down to kiss his cheeks.

"Peeta Mellark…there's my boy," she greeted. "You makin that daughter of mine work today?"

"Two hours of overtime," he grinned. I didn't miss the way his eyes quickly darted around the daunting interior of the Hawthorne home.

"That's right," she laughed. "Good for her."

His eyes drifted to where I stood and he beamed. I felt my heart stutter in my chest as I stared at him in the foyer, the morning sunlight hitting his golden hair. His blue eyes sparkled as he waited for me to speak.

"Peeta," I said quietly.

"Katniss," he echoed politely. I could see his blue eyes shining slightly with unshed tears and my heart began to pound in my chest. He really had missed me.

We gazed at each other for a minute before I could even find words. I was excited to go home with him. Scared out of my mind, but…hopeful. I didn't think I would regret going home with him one bit.

After saying my goodbyes to Prim and Cora, Peeta gently took my bag from my hand and nodded towards the truck. I watched as he carefully placed it on the seat between us and turned to look at me.

"You don't have to do this you know."

I chewed my lip and looked at him, his breath coming out in small clouds as the truck heated back up. The cab suddenly smelled like a mixture of freshly baked bread and Irish Spring soap. The sweet aroma mixed with his sparkling blue eyes was enough to make my stomach do another nervous flop.

"I'm sure."

He bobbed his head once and grinned to himself as he put the truck into drive. With a chortle from the engine, we were rolling down the Hawthornes driveway.

I didn't look back.

Peeta carefully drove me across town, navigating the streets as if he knew them like the back of his hand. I'm sure he did, of course, but they were almost all unfamiliar to me. Before I knew it, we were parking behind a brick building in a cozy alley.

"Bakery is on the other side. This is the door we use," he explained, motioning to the small red door on the side. He grabbed my bag and ushered me inside, quickly closing it to keep the cold air out. He led me up a narrow stairway and through another heavy looking door, and then stopped.

"We're home."

I paused in the doorway, my eyes taking it all in. He was telling the truth; we lived in a loft above the bakery. I could smell the scent of baking bread and sugar as it wafted up through the vents, creating a homey aroma. The main room was one long, wide area with posts and walls of exposed brick. On one side there was a row of windows overlooking the street below, just beside the area that looked like the living room. There was a long, beige couch, an overstuffed chair, and a plush looking loveseat covered in a quilt that I vaguely recognized. A long, barn wood table sat in the area to the left of that with mis-matched chairs and a low hanging antique chandelier. On the opposite wall was the kitchen, which was really just another open space with appliances and a bar with several stools. Another area to the left held a desk with an easel next to it, and a full bookshelf that covered almost the entire wall. I glanced up and noticed another little miniature, open and exposed loft with a narrow staircase.

"Bedroom and half bath up there, and…shower is down here," he explained. "Do you remember it?"

I shook my head sadly, still a little overwhelmed. I saw my things everywhere; my bow hung on the wall near the fireplace, my shoes were by the door, and I saw my mug on the countertop by the sink. But I didn't know this place.

"No…sorry."

Peeta was unfazed. "It's alright. Well…I hope you like it a second time. My dad and I restored it. He did all the floors for us, and helped me with the dry walled parts," he rambled, setting my bag down.

I gave him the best smile I could muster at the moment; I hadn't expected this to be so overwhelming. Sensing my discomfort, Peeta jumps in and rescues me.

"I'm going to go downstairs to the shop and check on things – is that alright? I'll bring us back some lunch. It's your favorite."

I nodded, a twinge of discomfort plaguing me. "Can um…can I just request one thing?"

His blue eyes are bright as he nods. "Of course. Ask me anything, anything you want."

I paused, admiring how open he is. The last thing I want to do is make this harder on him. "Um…I know this must be weird for you, but for now until…things start to make sense…can you just pretend like we don't…"

"That we're not married?"

I nodded. He gave me a hurt look that is quickly concealed with a small smile. "Of course. Of course you would….that's fine, Katniss. We'll take it slow, and….start over. Fresh, how's that?"

A wave of relief settled over me as I got over my initial jitters. "That would be great. It would really…make my life easier. The past month people have been expecting me to be the old me, and…I'm not. But I'm not the new me either. I guess you could say I'm the…current me?"

Peeta chuckles. "Well, the current you it is. I'm sorry if I'm being weird, I just..."

I nodded, suddenly staring at my own hands in embarrassment. "I...I missed you too."

"You did?"

"I meant what I said on the phone the other night. I missed you. You made me feel safe when I was in the hospital, and I appreciate that. It took me some time to realize that I didn't have that at the Hawthorne's. I'm sorry it took me over a month to figure it out."

He shrugged. "It's not your fault."

"I know it isn't. But this can't be easy on you either."

He smiled to himself, twisting his hands. "I made you feel safe, huh?"

"Yup," I said shyly. "You're just so..."

"What?"

"You," I grinned. "You're you, and...and it's not hard to see why I fell for you once. I meant it when I said I think I might be doing it again. Just...give me time, okay?"

Peeta's smile was brighter than the sun. "I'm not going anywhere. Ever. You could never remember me Katniss, and...I'll always be here."

"Thank you."

We stood in the middle of the living room, just smiling at each other nervously for a second before Peeta finally snapped out of it.

"Alright, well…take some time; explore….make yourself at home. I'll be taking the couch, and you can have the bedroom. Um…I'm going to go check on Rue and Thresh and grab some food. I uh…have something I think you'd enjoy," he corrects himself.

I laughed as he backed out the door and stumbled slightly, recovering with a bright grin. One more wave and his mop of unruly blonde curls was gone and I was alone in his apartment.

Our apartment.

I shifted in the sudden silence, unsure of what to do. I saw my things scattered around, but this place didn't feel like home. It did feel more welcoming than the Hawthornes icy mansion, so I began to look around.

The space was big and open, and much nicer than I had anticipated. The wood flooring squeaked slightly under my feet as I walked from room to room, exploring our living space. Of course there weren't many 'rooms' per se, just areas that were dedicated to different things. My eyes scanned the area that must be Peeta's desk; drawings and doodles covered the space, but I also saw a large stack of bills that had piled up as well. I bit my lip and began to feel guilty. He was surely used to two incomes; how had he been getting by with just one? I made a mental note to ask him later. The bathroom was clean; stark and reeking of Clorox. My heart melted when I realized he had most likely cleaned it in preparation for my arrival. However, most of the space was kept pretty tidy. It was an eclectic mix of homey meets modern, and I had to say I liked it.

Did I help decorate it before? Or was this him?

Confused, I made my way up the narrow, open staircase to the bedroom. It was small but cozy, with exposed brick walls like the rest of the apartment. A small door led to a tiny balcony that faced the alley, and on the opposite side was another tiny bathroom. The bed was large- maybe a queen with a very plain but soft looking comforter. I sat down on the bed and picked up a pillow, inhaling deeply. It smelled like bread and spice and Irish Spring. Just like Peeta.

I wasn't sure if it was my lack of sleep or the stressful morning, but I decided to lie down and rest for a moment. The bed seemed to fold me into itself, cocooning me in warmth and the smell of bread and Peeta. In the dim afternoon light, I soon fell asleep.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17: What's Past is Past

Once in Peeta's bed, sleep overtook me. The stress of everything was more than I was prepared for and I was out like a light, sinking into the downy comforter effortlessly.

"Katniss?"

I opened on eye, half expecting to see the eggshell white of the Hawthorne house. Instead, I saw brick. And a hand painted canvas of a forest. Opening my other eye, I realized I was not in the Hawthorne's house. Where was I?

"You awake?"

I let my eyes lazily move to the other side of the room where Peeta stood at the top of the open staircase with a timid little half smile. "Lunch is ready," he explained.

"Oh," I gasped, sitting up on my elbows. I rubbed my eyes, still half expecting this to be a dream. "What time is it?"

"Just past one. Sorry, I got caught up at the bakery."

I sat up and stretched, trying to get a grip on my surroundings. "You didn't have to come back for me, Peeta."

"No, it's fine. Thresh and Rue got it. It's good experience for them to run lunch hour on a Saturday. They both needed the overtime, so," he trailed off. "Oh, and Rue says hello. She's a friend of yours that works for me. Well, you know Cora."

I stood up, nodding at the memory of the Hawthorne's housekeeper. "Yeah, I remember. Cora's really sweet. She was the person I ate most of my meals with there."

"Rue is definitely her daughter. Anyway, she's worked for me for almost a whole year now. Man was it busy down there!"

"Business good?"

He nodded, lifting his stocky arm up to scratch his head. "Oh yeah, just great. That Panini maker I bought is sure doing the trick, I get more customers…" Peeta rattled off happily as he led me down the steps and to the dining area. Apparently this Panini maker he had recently acquired had helped him expand his menu to now include lunch items instead of just breakfast food and fresh baked bread. He explained that we lived in the small business district of town, and it had been Rue's idea to start serving lunch items as well. Her idea had sparked an entire lunch menu that had really taken off in our neighborhood and Peeta was now reaping the benefits.

"The extra money has sure been nice. Lots of the other shop owners have been coming over for their lunches every day. That's the nice thing about this part of town – everyone supports each other. They always send their employees to our bakery to get lunches and coffee and stuff like that, so we've done pretty well here. My dad always thought we would. But that Panini maker, jeez….That thing has paid for itself three times already, I just can't believe it," he rambled. "You hungry?"

I nodded. The strawberries I had managed to choke down from my last Hawthorne breakfast were getting lonely in my stomach, and now that I had relaxed a bit I was finally getting an appetite back. Peeta happily dished me a gooey, cheese filled bun that was flecked with bits of herbs and spices.

"This is an older recipe that um…I just revived a bit. I tried stuffing it instead of putting the cheese just on top," he explained. I knew he was being polite and trying not to bring up how this was my favorite; he was starting over, as I had requested. I bit into the cheesy bun and couldn't contain my moan of approval.

"Holy crap that's good," I laughed.

Peeta snorted as he bit into his own. "Shoot, I forgot," he laughed, jumping up. He produced a little cup of red sauce for me to dip the cheesy filled bun in and I about keeled over as the sauce and the cheese seemed to dance on my tongue. It was heaven. I glanced up as I chewed an inappropriate sized mouthful and tried not to laugh as his hopeful blue eyed gaze met mine.

"I could eat this all day, you do realize that right?"

He chuckled and nodded. "I can make them all day, if that's what it takes then."

"Good," I muttered, stuffing another one into my mouth. We feasted in silence for a few more minutes, me looking around the apartment with wide eyes and Peeta inspecting our food. I watched as he held it up to his face and looked at it like he was looking for something miniscule.

"Um…did you need a microscope?" I joked. A noise behind me made me look over my shoulder. I was still getting used to my new surroundings; this cozy little loft didn't feel real just yet.

"I think next time more parmesan sprinkled on the top. What do you think?"

"What?" I asked, turning back to him. I saw something move in the corner across the room, and I was temporarily distracted.

"The buns. I think next time more parmesan sprinkled on the top."

I grinned. "Do you always critique your own baking?"

He nodded, breaking open another. He pulled the two sides apart, watching as the creamy cheese stretched but didn't break. He held the two pieces wider, smiling widely at me. "You want it to do that. The cheese, that is," he explained. "And yes, I do. I want to be the best bakery in Tennessee."

I took another mouthful of bread and cheese and chewed thoughtfully. "Well, you certainly have my vote."

There was a soft crash as a pile of magazines in the corner of the room fell over. I jumped and gaped as a fluffy, mangy orange cat came flying out of the mess with his ears flattened.

"Oh my god, it's rabid!" I gasped, jumping up on my chair. It dashed under the table where we sat, hissing and yowling as Peeta burst out laughing.

"Buttercup isn't rabid! He's just…spirited," he guffawed, reaching under the table. I winced, half expecting him to get his arm chewed off. However he didn't, and instead pulled up his arms to show me a large, pushed in nose male cat. His fur was fluffy and wild, his orange eyes bright.

"What the fuck…is that?" I hissed.

Peeta looked at the cat, then back at me. The cat looked half wild. "This is Buttercup. He's your cat."

My eyes widened as he set the cat on the wooden table with a thump, allowing it to creep towards me. I swallowed back bile at the thought of the mangy, disgusting animal being mine and watched him pick his way across the space. He paused in front of me, his orange eyes taking me in. Then, slowly, he moved even closer, his scrunched up nose twitching slightly as he eyed me from inches away. I froze, unsure of what to do. I could hear him wheezing lightly as his orange, insightful eyes watched me with caution. They seemed much more alert than I would expect a cat's to be; spookily perceptive actually. Then, he leaned closer as he began to purr and butted his head against mine.

"He missed you," Peeta cooed, leaning on his elbows. He scratched the cats back above its tail, the purring noise growing even louder. Satisfied, he jumped down and scuttled away.

"I…I have a cat?" I practically wheezed.

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. You started feeding him scraps last fall when he was just a kitten. I found him out back by the dumpster behind the bakery and you felt so bad for him. Then when it got colder you brought him inside one night and…he's been here ever since."

"I don't even like cats." I muttered. I couldn't picture myself even wanting a cat.

Peeta chuckled as he wiped his last cheese bun against the cup of marinara sauce. "I know, that's what you always said too. But this guy just grew on you and…hey, I was as shocked as anyone. Usually you're bringing dead animals home to eat, not keep as pets."

I shifted in the chair and watched as he chewed. "Do I hunt a lot?"

Peeta looked up with a bright smile. "Yeah. Come home all bloody and covered in fur…." He laughed. "The first time I saw you after a hunt I freaked out because you were covered in deer blood. I thought some animal had mauled you."

"Oh yeah," I said with an embarrassed laugh, "That does actually sound like me."

"Yeah. Got a whole freezer full of deer salami to prove it. Do you…I mean, could I start selling it if you don't mind? Lots of people have been asking to buy some."

"Oh, um…sure," I said lightly. I remembered that I liked to hunt; that was burned into my mind. But I still did it?

"It's no secret that you're quite the hunter. I love it though, it's so you to want to hunt."

"I love it," I agreed.

"When you….the night you fell, that's what you were doing."

His voice had suddenly grown much softer; almost timid. His eyes fell to stare at the table in front of him sadly, and I felt all of my frustration come surging back. I had been so lost and panicked and just scared out of my mind in the hospital that I know I had said some hurtful things to him. And now, sitting across from his pained face I felt horrible all over again. I had imagined what it was like to be in Peeta's shoes more than once. How would I react if our roles were reversed and he was the one who had forgotten me? How would I ease his pain and confusion from it all? I honestly wasn't sure, but I had to believe that he had done the best he could when I had woken up a stranger to him. The reality of our horrible situation sunk in, hitting me like a ton of bricks. The blow made me swallow roughly. It was all so fresh again that it made my heart ache in my chest. A silence settled between us as Buttercup purred from the floor. I shifted in my seat and tried to think of something to say that would make up for those first few days in the hospital.

"I remember you telling me that in the hospital. Those first few days were….weird. I'm sorry I was so short to you."

"It's okay," he said, brushing it off. "You did as well as you could."

"No," I shook my head. "I said some really awful things to you Peeta. You're….you're my husband, even if I don't remember you, and….I was mean. I shouldn't have been."

"You were panicked."

"Peeta, don't make excuses for me. I shouldn't have gone home with Gale, okay? I know that now."

"Katniss…we don't have to do this. We don't have to go there right now. Just…give yourself some time," he said softly, reaching across the table. His warm hands closed around mine for a second. I closed my eyes and sighed as his strong, muscled fingers softly squeezed my palms. "What's past is past."

I watched as he stood, clearing our plates and taking them to the sink. He rinsed them carefully and placed them in some soapy dishwater to soak as he cleaned up the rest of the kitchen area. I leaned back in the chair and watched him move about, quietly going about his task. My eyes moved around the apartment, taking it all in. It was quiet and cozy and…quaint. It was nothing like the Hawthorne's' mansion, and I already felt at home here.

Peeta was right. This was a fresh start and I didn't want to talk about the past anymore.

"How's your leg?" I asked, watching as he walked back to the table. Peeta lowered his stocky frame back to his chair and shrugged.

"Almost good as new. I'm still clumsy, but…always kinda was," he admitted with a sheepish grin. "You always make fun of me for being so loud. I guess I could never be a good hunter, according to you."

"Well, you're a good baker so that makes up for it."

We laughed together at that, his bright eyes shining. When I was finally able to talk again, I know I needed to say what he wanted to hear. This was my chance.

"Peeta…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm really glad to be here with you."

He stared at me from across the table, his eyes growing a little shiny in the afternoon light. "I'm really glad you're here too."

For the rest of the afternoon, Peeta gave me a more detailed tour of our apartment. I assured him it was alright to show me any photos or videos he could find of us together, and he only shrugged and told me that it could wait. I could tell he didn't want to pressure me into remembering anything, and I was grateful. It had been a long day and I was already a little overwhelmed.

But I was also hopeful.

I didn't know if my memory would ever return, but I had hope for the first time that everything would actually be like he said – alright. For the first time since I had woken up, I began to relax around Peeta. He was unlike any other human being I had met – patient, funny, and endearingly awkward at times. I found myself inexplicably drawn to him. Even his voice had a calming effect on me; deep and steady as he told me stories and answered my questions.

He managed to make me feel like he wasn't expecting anything; if I asked questions, he gave me answers – nothing more. I didn't feel like he was waiting for me to just snap out of my memory loss as Gale and Prim had.

I felt like I was finally able to relax a little.

The day passed quickly, and soon he was getting up to start preparing dinner. I sat on a kitchen stool and sipped some tea as he moved around on the other side of the counter, chopping vegetables and adding things to a large pot. His fingers worked skillfully with the food, and he barely stopped talking the entire time. Not that I minded; Peeta was endearing and sweet and I found that I enjoyed listening to him tell me stories about his childhood growing up in a bakery.

"I probably messed up hundreds of sugar cookies with too much icing over the years. I'm surprised my brothers and I didn't die of heart attacks we ate so much of the stuff."

"I bet you had fun though."

"Oh, we did. My dad was so happy when I told him I wanted to keep up the family trade."

"What do your brothers do?"

"Oh, my brothers? One is a lawyer and one has some corporate job. I'm not even sure what he does, to be honest. Sometimes they come help out at the bakery. I swear they miss it sometimes."

"Oh."

He gave me another shy smile as he added some spices to the stew he was cooking. "They said to tell you hello. They miss you. Especially my dad."

I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise. "They miss me?"

He nodded. "You and my dad are close."

I swallowed the lump in my throat, chewing on my bottom lip for a second. "Is that….do you think it's because my dad is…dead?"

Peeta paused, frowning to himself for a second before wiping his face of any trace of the negativity. "I think so. Everyone kinda likes my dad though, so…maybe not. It's hard to say."

"Oh."

"So how's Prim?"

I bit my lip and stared down at the counter top. "Um…different, than I remember."

"Yeah, I figured," he lamented. "She's really gonna marry him?" he asked softly.

I nodded. "New Year's Eve I guess."

"At that party of theirs…huh...makes sense."

"You know about that party they throw?"

Peeta snorted as he dropped some meat into the stew and shrugged. "Everyone knows about that party, Katniss."

"I guess I knew that. Well, anyway…she's just so in love with her life now…she seems happy but not quite, ya know?"

He nodded. "I can understand that."

"Yeah…I kinda gave her a pretty hard time about it. I just feel like she's depending on him too much. What if he dumps her, or…or finds someone else?"

Peeta looked up at me. "Well…you'd still be there for her, wouldn't you?"

"Of course, I mean I'm just…"

"You're just trying to look out for your little sister, Katniss. It's natural to feel protective. I have older brothers, and they certainly did the same for me over the years. Siblings are different – the give different advice than a friend would. They're brutally honest about it…like I'm guessing you were with Prim?"

I nodded. "Yeah. I really read her the riot act a few times while I was there. I just couldn't believe she was acting like…like money was everything."

"How so?"

I sighed, leaning on the counter as I gripped my tea mug. The memories of our fight about Rory came rushing back to me. "She lived in poverty…we lived in poverty for such a long time that she just jumped at the chance to not have to worry about money again. But she lets Rory completely control her. It's like he pays her to be his robot, and I don't get how my little sister would ever put up with that, ya know?"

I didn't miss the way Peeta's mouth pressed into a thin line. "Money is…a powerful thing if you let it be."

"Speaking of money," I said slowly, "how do I make money?"

"You mean what to you do for a living?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"You…well, you work a few nights at Abernathy's down the street, bartending. You do pretty well there. You teach archery in the summer at a country club, and you also have done a few hunting expeditions for them."

"Do what?"

He chuckled. "You take yuppies into the woods and teach them how to hunt. They pay you a shitload to shoot their animals for them."

"Oh. Well…I need to get back to work. How do I…I don't even know where to start."

"You leave that to me. Haymitch owns the bar where you work, and he said to take it easy for now. He lives next door, actually. And I called the country club and told them about the accident. You're off the hook until spring."

"But what about money?"

"Money?"

"How do we pay for things?"

Peeta paused his chopping, setting the knife down onto the countertop. "Well, now that I'm selling lunch at the bakery that's been a big help. Honestly the timing of that couldn't have been better. I started that right before your accident, so that's pretty much covered the bills that I needed to pay. We're not struggling, if that's what you're asking. Especially not now."

I nodded and sat back, sipping my tea. Buttercup was purring again, winding himself around the barstool I was on. "I still can't believe I own a cat. I hate cats."

"Not that one you don't."

"I just…found him and started feeding him?"

"Yeah. You said you felt sorry for him."

"I kinda do…he's a little pathetic," I laughed, noticing his scruffy, matted coat. I lowered my hand down to his head, letting him sniff it carefully. Satisfied, he rubbed his flat nose against my palm and snorted.

I watched Peeta cook our dinner, finding it rather calming to observe as he moved around the kitchen with ease. I had never met a man who could cook before; Gale had been awful and my father burned everything. Cooking had been up to my mother and eventually Prim.

"I can't really cook you know."

Peeta smirked. "I know."

He ushered me to the table with the large platter of food he had prepared and we sat down to feast. One bite in, and I was in heaven.

"What is this?"

"Lamb stew. It's my dad's recipe," he explained, scooping up another forkful. I grinned and kept eating. The delicious, meaty stew had more flavor than anything I'd ever tasted. It melted in my mouth and left a mouthwatering scent in the air. Peeta laughed as I mopped up the last of the sauce with some bread. After helping him clean up the kitchen, I felt myself yawn.

"Tired?"

I nodded. "I think I'll go to bed. Are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the couch?"

He shrugged. "No, it's fine. I can take it," he offered sweetly.

I paused at the foot of the stairs, wondering about something. "Peeta, have you…do you ever have to sleep on the couch? I mean, do we ever fight?"

He smirked again as he dried the last dish and placed it back on the shelf. "Honestly? Let's just say…I've never slept on the couch. Ever," he chuckled. His cheeks then turned ruddy pink and he was unable to look at me. A reassuring feeling swept over me, and I realized something: I was happy. Before my accident, that is. I had been happy with Peeta. These last few months must have shaken him to the core, and here he was being so nice to me.

I didn't pause as I crossed the room in his direction. He looked at me in surprise before I threw my arms around his neck in a tight hug. He sputtered for a second before returning the gesture. Closing my eyes, I inhaled his scent and let it linger in my nose. It was comforting.

"Um…"

"Thank you," I said, my voice cracking slightly. "Thank you for being so wonderful about this."

I released him and backed up, suddenly shy. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes were shining slightly with unshed tears. He blinked a few times as I made my way back to the stairs. "Well…um…goodnight," I offered meekly. I turned and hurried up the steps, not stopping until I was in the upstairs bathroom with the door shut tight.

I stared at myself in the mirror. What had gotten into me? My cheeks were bright red, my eyes were bright and my heart was beating quickly. For the first time in weeks, I felt amazing.

After cleaning up and getting ready for bed, I stepped into the bedroom and looked around. The loft was cozy and serene, an eclectic mix of so many things that worked well together. I felt comfortable though. It was so strange to be in someone else's bedroom, even if it was supposed to be mine. Peeking over the half-wall, I could see Peeta below getting settled on the couch.

Holy shit, I thought. My husband is…hot.

I felt awful spying, but not awful for what I saw. Downstairs, Peeta was in a pair of loose, low hanging grey sweatpants as he made up the couch into a bed. As he raised his arms to straighten out the sheet, I watched the muscles of his back bend and stretch. The muscles lay in thick bands across his arms and shoulders, yet weren't defined and showy like I hated. He was stocky and strong and just…wow. I licked my lips before I caught myself. I spied away as he settled onto the sofa and pulled a blanket off the back of the couch.

After ducking away and chastising myself for spying on my own deliciously hot husband, I climbed into the bed and tried to relax. After my nap I wasn't as tired as I usually was by this time, so unfortunately had to deal with a wandering mind. It instantly brought up the text messages.

Real or not real?

It was obviously a game we played…right? There was more than one of them in my phone. What did they mean? It was a strange thing to text someone so often. Before falling asleep, I made a mental note to ask Peeta what they meant in the morning. In the meantime, I wanted to enjoy being home as much as I could.

The next morning, I woke to the smell of coffee wafting up to the open bedroom loft I was staying in. I padded down the steps in search of Peeta and the glorious smelling coffee. My foot hadn't hit the bottom step before I glanced up at the first sign of movement. There was Peeta across the hall, stepping out of the shower with the door wide open. And reaching for a towel.

Naked.

I let out a surprised yelp that made us both jump. I covered my eyes and gasped as he fumbled for a towel. "Shit!"

"Sorry!"

"Oh my God…I'm sorry," I gasped, eyes still covered. I heard Peeta laugh to himself for a second before he told me it was alright to open my eyes. I blushed fiercely as I realized he was still standing there in a towel.

Half naked.

"I'm sorry, I…I didn't think you'd be up so early. I…sorry," he stammered.

"It's okay, I just…wow, um…yeah. Coffee," I stuttered, shuffling into the kitchen. Peeta dressed and joined me as I pour myself a cup of black coffee and sipped it gingerly. I couldn't meet his eyes as he poured himself a cup as well. Neither one of us knew what to say.

"I…I'm sorry, Peeta. I…just…to me, I've never um…seen that. You know?"

He nodded and shrugged. "I guess if you've seen one, you've seen them all," he answered.

"Well…I didn't see it. You. Um…never mind. I mean, I know we've obviously, um…had…relations before…we're married, why wouldn't we…"

"Katniss," he interjected. "We're starting over. It's fine. It was an accident," he chuckled, holding up his hands. He brushed past me with a laugh to open a cabinet and pull out a box of pancake mix. Before long, we were talking and laughing over pancakes, the incident long forgotten.

"So, my best friend's name is Finnick. He um, wants to meet up for dinner and bring his girlfriend. Would that be alright?"

"Sure. I'd love to meet your friends," I said nodding. We finish up breakfast and spend the rest of the afternoon talking on the couch, watching TV, and I try to warm up to Buttercup again. The cat is somewhat affectionate but also aloof at times, which is fine with me. It seems like an alright animal, but like Peeta said – I'm more used to bringing them home already dead. He pulls a roll of deer salami out of the refrigerator and slices some of it before bringing me some crackers. I find myself perched on the barn wood dining room table as Peeta shows me his art.

"You draw a lot?" I asked, chewing the salami.

"Yeah, I like to. I painted the bakery. I'll take you down to see it later," he offers. "This is good," he smiles, holding up some salami.

I shrugged. "Why thank you."

"You know, I never was able to kill anything. My dad took me hunting once."

"Yeah? How did that go?"

"Oh…he found me up in the deer stand, sketching the woods…and a deer."

"Did you shoot it?"

He shook his head sheepishly. "She was too beautiful to shoot, I duno…I just couldn't."

"Does it bother you that I hunt?"

"No, not at all. By the time you bring them home….and we take it to the butcher they're…they don't resemble deer very much," he laughed. "Plus, we either sell or eat every part of it, and I don't think that's wasteful."

"It helps control the population," I added with a hopeful smile as he handed me another thick portfolio. We exchanged a shy grin before I opened it and gasped. The theme of this one was obviously sunsets. On each page he had created a beautiful sunset in either paint, watercolors, or some other substance I didn't recognize. The colors popped out from the page, pulling my eyes in all different directions as they scanned one breath taking picture after another. He stood beside the table and watched me as I took it all in.

"They're so…beautiful," I breathed, making a face. "The world 'beautiful' sounds so trite when I describe these…these are….magnificent," I offered. "So real."

Peeta's chest puffed out slightly with pride. "Thanks. I love drawing, I….I was always doodling in the margins of my notebooks when I was a kid," he said sheepishly.

I sighed happily and scanned the pages again with a look of awe. "I bet your favorite color is….this one," I guessed, pointing to the page. It was a mixture of oranges, yellows, and reds, creating a beautiful mixture of the golden hues. It was a color that was frequently in the collection, so I guessed it was his favorite.

Peeta smiled, moving my finger a centimeter to the right. "No…there. That one. I love that color."

"Why?" I laughed. "What makes that one special?"

He snickered lightly, shrugging. "I don't know, it's….I've always been drawn to the more honey tones…golds….maybe bread?" he chuckled, "I'm not sure. What's…what's your favorite color?" he asked politely.

My eyes moved around the pages as I turned them, searching for one that would depict the perfect evergreen hue from my mind on the pages. I settled on one, a picture of a forest and pointed to it. "Probably that."

"Ah," he hummed. "Nice choice."

"It reminds me of the woods."

Peeta sighed, taking the book from me and closing it with a soft thump. "Next weekend, we could maybe go out to the woods and walk around. We might freeze, but…it might be nice to get out of the town and take a walk or something. There's this really great little lake I'd love to show you," he stated hopefully.

I stared across the table at him, his blue eyed, hopeful gaze making me shiver slightly. Before Peeta, I didn't know anyone who had blue eyes that were more beautiful and full of depth than Prim's. But Peeta's certainly managed to draw me in, hook line and sinker. I swallowed roughly, nodding. "I'd like that."

He blinked slowly, as if locked in the same trance I was. His slightly chapped lips formed a little awkward half smile, and his cheeks turned the ruddy pink I was growing so fond of. "Um…yeah. Great, well…it's a date then."

I nodded in agreement, my entire body flooding with a nervous, excited heat. I looked back up at him as he nervously stood over by the desk, fiddling with the portfolios.

"Peeta?"

"Hm?"

I know I'd said it before, but I wanted to erase the damage I'd done in the past. I wanted him to know how I felt, so I didn't feel bad about repeating myself to him again. I felt like these were words he needed to hear.

"I'm…I'm really glad to be home."


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 17: Begin Again

My fingers wove through the dark hairs effortlessly, twisting it around the back of my head and around to my shoulder. The chocolate brown strands seemed to know their places as they fell into the intricate braid I had done thousands of times. My hair was a little longer than I remembered. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, wondering how my fingers knew how to do something so easily. Something as trivial as hair braiding.

And yet, I couldn't remember Peeta.

Not that he wasn't coming back to me easily. Or maybe I was just welcoming him. There was a nervous, flirty energy between us that I looked forward to every waking moment. Even my dreams were better when I was with Peeta - last night I had dreamt of cheesy buns and the woods and even orange scruffy cats.

I felt safe again.

I hadn't felt safe in a long time.

We were getting ready to go to dinner with his friends, Finnick and….Angie? I frowned, trying to remember the name of the girl Peeta said would be coming with us. Finnick's girlfriend. Who was she? Did I know her? Would she spend the whole dinner asking me questions about my accident, or trying to get me to remember her? A nervous bubble formed in my throat as I thought about what might happen at dinner. I didn't feel ready to do this, but it seemed like it meant so much to Peeta that I join him for dinner with his friends. He had done so much to make me comfortable in the past few days that I felt like I should do this one simple thing for him in return.

Gale would have demanded I go. He would have huffed and thrown a childish fit if I said I didn't feel up to it. What would Peeta do if I chickened out? But you're not going to chicken out, I told myself. Somehow I didn't think Peeta would hold it against me. Besides Cinna, he was the first person to actually try to understand what had happened during my injury. He had seemed to accept that his wife was temporarily gone. No. I wasn't chickening out. I would do this for Peeta. Finnick and….and…I couldn't remember the girlfriend's name for the life of me. I leaned against the small chair and stared at myself in the mirror. What if she was someone I knew, but didn't remember? That would be awkward. Peeta was at least kind about it, but would a stranger be that way?

Anxiety plagued me as I sat at the tiny dresser in the corner of the bedroom. It was an antique little desk with a few drawers that someone had panted dark teal. A few of my scarves and necklaces were draped over the lampshade, and familiar looking bottles and odds and ends were scattered across the top of it. I picked up a bottle of perfume and sniffed it, trying to place the scent. It smelled nice, but also a little foreign. I dabbed a tiny bit on my wrist and sniffed it again.

It was so strange to see my belongings draped around a house that didn't feel like mine.

I sat on the little stool and toyed with the end of my braid, dabbing on a little lip gloss. I never really liked to wear makeup, but as I had gotten older I had dabbled in it more to be able to help Prim than anything. I could remember pushing and crowding around the bathroom vanity as little girls to watch our mother put on her lipstick and mascara. We had been fascinated with our beautiful mother as she got ready for date night with dad once a month.

I dabbed a little blush on my cheeks and added a few swipes of mascara in an attempt to look not as washed out as I normally did. I had picked out a simple outfit from my old closet; skinny jeans, tall brown boots, and a long sleeved t-shirt, and mixed it with one of Prim's pretty scarves to make myself look a little fancier. Peeta had told me the name of the restaurant we would be going to, but I couldn't remember it anymore.

My stupid brain had betrayed me once again.

"Katniss? You ready honey-erm, you ready?" he called up the steps.

"Yeah, be right down," I called, grabbing my purse. I fiddled with the wedding band that was still on my left hand and carefully navigated my way downstairs. The last thing I needed was another fall.

Peeta looked up from his place at the counter, bent over a newspaper. He wore dark jeans, a pair of boots, and a blue button down shirt that made his pale eyes and hair stick out. He straightened up when he saw me, a bright smile gracing his features.

"You look great!" he exclaimed. "Nice scarf."

"Oh," I laughed, touching the fringe, "Prim gave it to me. Well, insisted I take it, actually."

I tried to hide my surprise that he noticed. Gale wouldn't have noticed. Gale would have told me to dress up more if he was taking me out.

Stop it. Peeta isn't Gale. Don't compare the two. Apples to oranges.

Peeta picked up my leather hunting jacket and helped me into it, his eyes lighting up. "Your perfume is um…really nice."

I snickered as he grabbed his own coat. "Did you buy it for me?"

He shrugged and bit back a smile. "Perhaps."

"Where did you get it? I liked the bottle," I said as he led me out the door.

"There's an apothecary shop on the way, I'll show you. Cute little shop this old lady Mags owns. You can go in and mix your own scents, and I put that one together for you. The lady helped me, but I think I did a good job."

I sniffed my wrist and grinned. "Lavender and….citrus?"

"Orange blossoms," he admitted, opening the door. We stepped out into the breezy air, wincing as the cold hit us. The restaurant we were meeting Finnick at was close enough to walk, so I simply bundled up and followed Peeta as we navigated the sidewalks. People were everywhere – it was one of the last weekends in October, so the weather was just chilly and not cold cold yet. He pointed out places we frequented as we walked, talking animatedly the entire time. By the time we arrived at the restaurant, I had gotten the entire lowdown of the whole area. Not that I minded – it was nice to hear Peeta talk. His voice was deep and smooth and comforting as he described everything with so much detail. He would add his own little stories about each place, telling me which places sold what. As he led me inside the little restaurant, his hand grazed my lower back to lead me inside and I shivered. His touch was…magnetic in a way. I didn't hate it, that was for sure.

Inside we were greeted with the smell of garlic and olive oil that immediately made my stomach growl impatiently. It was a small place that looked like it had been there for ages; dusty pictures cluttered together on the walls, red glass votive decorated the tables, Christmas lights on the pillars, and mismatched table cloths and chairs. The waiters all looked to be in their seventies and there wasn't an empty table in sight. I immediately liked it.

We were led to our table where two people were already waiting. Peeta hugged them both; the tall, bronze haired man with a tan to match, and the wispy girl with the long, dark brown hair.

"This is Finnick and Annie," he said happily. I shook their hands, each of them watching me closely.

"It's…nice to meet you both," I said finally, nodding. Finnick exchanged a look with Peeta that I pretended not to see as we sat down. I took off my coat and Peeta took it, draping it across the back of my chair. I caught myself blushing a little as he inched his chair closer to mine. The heat coming from his thigh was impossible to miss, and I suddenly ached for his leg to press against mine.

But I wouldn't rush it.

I wasn't sure how to act with him, to be honest. I knew I needed him to survive in this new life of mine; I lived with him, he paid for everything and supported me for the time being, and he knew everything about me. I depended on Peeta as my lifeline. There was very little I could do without him, and I wasn't about to go back to live at the Hawthornes. But to me, he was just a really cute guy I wanted to flirt with. In my mind, I was fresh out of a messy relationship I was happy to be rid of and Peeta was the new guy I was interested in. I didn't know how to act. It was a tricky tight rope to watch.

"Finally got you out of the house I see," Finnick said loudly, giving me a wink. Annie elbowed his side, rolling her eyes.

"Give it a rest, Finn," she said quietly, grinning sheepishly at him.

"I've been a bit of a hermit lately, yes. But I've emerged from my leave of absence with a special guest," Peeta boasted proudly. "Tell him."

"Yes," I nodded. "Sorry he was MIA. Peeta has been taking care of me," I added quietly, giving him a flirty glance before I could stop myself.

He blushed in response.

"I guess you could say I have a thing for falling out of trees."

Finnick and Annie's eyebrows both shot up as they waited to see whether or not I was joking. Peeta burst out laughing, causing them to follow. I grinned shyly and shrugged.

"Well it's good to have you back. We missed our little bread boy," Finnick laughed. "So Peet, whatcha been up to?"

The two of them began yammering away, talking business and soon I was tuning them out as was Annie. She turned to me and gave me a shy smile that made me feel a little less nervous – it was clear she was nervous too. I watched Finnick laugh and talk loudly with Peeta, his hands moving wildly as he spoke. Annie would interject occasionally with a laugh or a few words here or there, but she was mostly quiet. She and Finnick seemed to balance each other perfectly.

"Katniss is such a pretty name," Annie said as I fiddled with my menu. "Does it mean something?"

"Oh, um…it's a plant. My dad thought of it, he was really outdoorsy I guess."

"I like it so much better than plain old Annie."

"Oh, I like Annie. It's old but classic. And no one misspells it and rolls their eyes when they hear it," I laughed. Annie giggled and nodded in agreement. I instantly liked Finnick's introverted, sweet girlfriend.

Soon our elderly waiter came that knew Peeta by name and nodded happily at the rest of us. Peeta had to help me decide what to order because I was a little overwhelmed; it all sounded so good and my stomach was growling wildly. Peeta and Finnick ordered imported beers as we waited for our food. Annie turned to me and smiled shyly.

"Do you want to get some wine with me?"

I shrugged. "Um, sure. I think I like wine. Peeta, do I drink wine?"

He looked surprised for a moment. All day he had politely respected my 'starting over' request and had been talking to me like we were just that – starting over. My question must have surprised him. Reaching over, he brushed my shoulder lightly as he pointed to a name on the menu that didn't look familiar at all. I shrugged and gave Annie a clueless look.

"Sure."

Finnick flagged down the waiter and soon he was pouring Annie and me both a class of the crisp white wine. I took a sip and instantly liked it.

"This is really good," I told him.

He nodded and tried not to smile as he patted my knee. I couldn't help the dopey little grin I gave him when his hand lingered there for a few extra seconds, the warmth burning through my thin jeans. He eventually removed it and put it back in his lap, taking an extra-long sip of his beer after that.

"What did your order?" I asked Peeta.

"Um, the sampler. That way I get a little of everything."

My shoulders slumped slightly as my stomach growled again. "Oh, that's a good idea. I should have thought of that," I pouted. He reached over and squeezed my knee again under the table as he leaned closer.

"I'll share, how's that?"

His lips brushed the outside of my ear and I shivered slightly at the feeling. He gave me a little knowing smile as he pulled away, and I knew he had seen my reaction. I felt my cheeks turn a little red before he turned his attention back to Finnick.

"Did Peeta keep good care of the apartment while you were um…gone?" Annie asked.

"Oh yeah, it was really nice. He cleaned before I came home, so that was really considerate of him."

She smiled. "I just know if I left Finnick in control of our place it would be a mecca to empty beer bottles, pizza boxes and half eaten bags of chips," she laughed. "How he stays in such good shape, I don't know."

"Do you work out a lot?" I asked. "I mean, you're so tiny."

"I take yoga a few times a week if you ever want to join me."

"I've never done it before," I admitted. "I'm afraid of looking stupid."

"Oh, I'll take you. Just once and you'll be hooked."

"I'll try anything. I feel so weak and tired all the time since being in the hospital," I said. "I'd like to get out and do something physical."

"The boys lift together sometimes, not that either of them needs it," she laughed. "The first time I saw Finnick shirtless I was just like, 'oh, that's not fair!'"

"Tell me about it. I had an um…similar reaction," I admitted sheepishly, my eyes darting to Peeta. He was deep in conversation with Finnick, not paying attention.

Annie gave me a knowing smile. "Peeta is really nice," she said quietly.

I nodded and took another sip of wine. "I know, I um…kinda feel like I won the husband lottery with him," I admitted.

She giggled. "You sure did."

Peeta glanced over at us with a raised eyebrow. "You talkin' about me?"

Finnick leaned across the table and gave me a wink. "Don't worry bro, she's just making sure you're not some weirdo off the street that claims he's married to her. Don't worry Katniss, I was at the wedding – he's legit, I promise."

I couldn't help but laugh a little as Finnick took a long swig of his beer after clanking his bottle against Peeta's. Peeta shook his head exasperatedly at Finnick and looked a little relieved when our food came.

"So there's a gallery opening on 2nd street in a few weeks. Annie's gonna have a show there sometime around Christmas."

"You're an artist?" I asked Annie in disbelief. That seemed so interesting compared to what I did, and I had never met an artist before.

"Yeah, mostly sculpting," she said quietly, giving Finnick a smile. "But I dabble in other stuff too. This gallery owner saw my stuff and just…apparently thought it was decent."

"Don't let her talk herself down, Annie is a brilliant sculptor," Peeta said brightly. "Her work makes my drawings look like one dimensional finger paintings."

Annie giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear as she twirled her fork in her linguine. "It does not, Peeta shut up. But I would love for you guys to come. Free champagne and the gallery will have some live music."

I shook my head. "That sounds great, Annie, we'd love to come. I'd want to see your work."

Finnick grinned proudly, wrapping his arm around the back of her chair. "Annie's art is the prettiest art of all the art," he stated.

She rolled her eyes and shoved his arm off her chair. "He's in trouble because he thought my scrap pile of clay was my main piece," she said flatly. "But it's the weekend before Christmas, do you have plans?"

I glanced at Peeta, who shook his head. "No, we're free if Katniss wants to go. I'm always down for whatever, so…we'll be there, yeah," he said brightly. I leaned back in my chair and smiled, spearing a piece of tortellini on my plate. It felt nice to have plans with him. It also felt good to meet nice people who didn't act like I should know them.

I felt like I was starting over.

"Do you want to try some of this?" he asked, scooting his plate towards mine. I nodded, unsure if I should eat off of his plate or not. It seemed like a rather personal thing to do, so I was hesitant. And then Peeta gave me a Peeta smile and I felt stupid for even worrying about it. I stabbed a piece of food off his plate and ate it, savoring the flavor.

"This is almost as good as your cheesy buns," I whispered, turning to face him.

"Careful lady, I take pride in my buns."

Peeta's face was inches from mine. I could feel his warm breath on my cheeks. I paused, unsure of what to do in this new proximity. He had moved like he was going to kiss me, but then he had stopped himself. My face slowly spread into a smile, and his matched. I ate another bite off his plate and didn't say a word for the rest of the meal. His leg rested up against mine under the table, and I found I didn't mind a bit when our plates were cleared and his hand found my knee again. I sipped my wine and made polite conversation with Annie, but on the inside my head was reeling.

When our faces had been close and he had looked like he wanted to kiss me…well…I was lying if I told myself I didn't want him to. I did want him to kiss me. It was all so strange and new and weirdly exciting that I wasn't sure how to handle myself suddenly. When Annie and Finnick both hugged me goodbye in the chilly street afterwards, I found myself alone with Peeta.

He linked his arm through mine and led me back in the direction of our apartment. I could see his breath in the chilly night air as I burrowed further into my scarf. There were still people out and about, but it was almost late evening so we it was a lot quieter.

"Did you have a nice time?" he asked.

I nodded. "I liked them. Especially Annie."

"That's good," he chuckled. "She's a sweet girl. Too good for Finn, and he knows it."

I giggled at the thought and held his arm a little tighter. "Do I know them? Like…did I know them well before my accident?"

Peeta shrugged. "I thought we were starting over?"

"I want to know," I begged.

"Yes, you do. Annie is…was one of your best friends. She was your maid of honor at our wedding, and Finnick was my best man. They're our closest friends."

"Oh."

"It's alright."

I walked along, remembering how kind and sweet Annie had been to me that night – both of them really. She hadn't tried to get me to remember her or assumed I knew anything about her, or any of that. I felt like I was meeting her for the first time. She had simply accepted me and moved on. I felt a little lighter as we walked home in the light of the streetlamps.

I tossed and turned later that night, the wine from dinner giving me a slight headache. Sleep was eluding me. I kept thinking of my mother and Prim – had anything changed since I'd been gone? Of course Prim had my number; she could call me at any time. But what if she didn't? I felt guilty for leaving her. And for leaving my mother. I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

Maybe I was suddenly too happy and it didn't feel right. That was it. I felt guilty.

Figuring it was useless; I tossed back the covers and padded my way over to the balcony that overlooked the living room. Below, the street lights shone through the glass onto Peeta as he lay sprawled on the couch. I could see his eyes as they flicked up to meet mine.

"You awake?" he called.

I nodded and heaved a sigh, making my way over to the stairs. I padded down to the living room as he sat up.

"I can't sleep."

"Me either. Care if I make tea?" he asked, stand up. My eyes could see the outline of his bare chest in the darkness. The streetlamp behind the curtains helped illuminate it just enough for me. My cheeks grew a little hot, but I had to remind myself that it was dark and he couldn't see me. I was wearing a soft, ratty old sweater and a pair of legging I had found in a drawer with a pair of mismatched fuzzy socks. I wasn't exactly the epitome of sexy at the moment.

"Sure."

I sat on the plush sofa, letting my toes dig into the edge of the blanket. I smiled; it was still warm from him. I pulled my sweater tighter around my body and waited as I listened to the kettle boil I the kitchen area.

"Here." A mug, my mug, was set in front of me. I picked it up and inhaled the steam.

"Chamomile?"

He nodded, settling back into the sofa with a few bones cracking along the way. "Yeah. Always best when you can't sleep."

I gave him a smile in the darkness and sipped it slowly. I could feel his leg against mine as he stretched out and propped his legs up on the ottoman in front of us. I laughed and pulled the blanket over our feet and let myself enjoy the feeling of sitting up next to him, our legs, arms, and shoulders touching. We were silent for a few moments, just sipping our tea when I finally spoke.

"I had nightmares when I was there."

He turned to look at me in the dim light; the only sound his even breaths.

I continued. "I dreamt some really awful things when I was….in the hospital and at the Hawthorne's."

Peeta exhaled slowly. "And here?"

I shook my head. "No, not here. Not so far."

He waited a few seconds before speaking. "You seem…upset about something."

I turned to look at him, my fingers clinging to the warm mug in my hands. "I feel guilty."

"Why?"

"Because…I feel like I bailed. Things got difficult and I just…left."

"Katniss…you can't…don't. Don't do that to yourself. Please?"

"I know I shouldn't. I'm visiting her this week, but…I just feel like I bailed when things got tough. It wasn't going well and I couldn't handle it."

Peeta shook his head. "You didn't. Things there weren't going to change, Katniss. You did the best you could, I've told you that honey. There's no shame in wanting to take care of yourself."

My skin tingled as his term of endearment for me rolled so easily off his tongue. I felt greedy seeking comfort from this man, but I couldn't deny myself what my heart and body were aching for. As if he could read my thoughts, Peeta shifted on the couch, his bare arm circling my shoulders. It didn't feel strange like I thought it would be. It felt nice. Normal. Welcomed. Before I could think, I leaned into his touch and reveled in the first lingering contact we'd had since I had woken up. It felt nice to be touched by someone that I wasn't related to or who made my skin crawl.

"You have to stop this. Making yourself feel guilty. It's not fair to yourself to always feel this way, Katniss. Your mom has been sick a long time, and it's not your fault. No one knows why she's like that."

"I know, but I still feel bad. I just ditched her. And now I'm…I'm happy here," I admitted slowly.

Peeta paused, taking a deep breath. "Do you feel guilty for being happy?"

I nodded, feeling the wetness creep up in my eyes. I blinked back a tear and took a sip of my tea before I let it fall.

"You don't have to feel bad for being happy for once. You deserve to have some time to yourself to heal. There's nothing wrong with that, Katniss. You're healing and focusing on you. Your mom is getting the best care money can buy, and you're going to visit her this week, right?"

"Right."

"That's not ditching her. You're focusing on yourself, and I say that time is well deserved. You were there for over a month trying, and I say that's more than a decent effort."

"I know," I said, wiping my eyes. "I shouldn't feel bad, but…I've barely thought about them the past few days, and that's strange to me. I spent so long worrying about the whole situation that it feels so strange to finally….breathe."

Peeta's arm around my shoulders tightened. The warmth from his arm seemed to help sooth my frazzled nerves. "These things are never simple or easy. We just have to get through it the best we can. There isn't a how-to book on our situation, unfortunately."

I snorted. "Tell me about it," I said, taking another long sip of tea. "What did you dream about?"

Peeta sighed, shaking his head a little. "Just…being in the woods. I was always lost in the forest, at night. Looking for something, probably you. It was terrifying. I had nightmares like that for weeks after your accident."

"I'm sorry."

"It's nothing. I think that's why it would be nice to visit the woods again. Kinda re-assimilate it with some nice memories," he said sheepishly.

"That's a good idea, actually. I think I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," I agreed.

There was a pregnant pause in the darkness.

"So…you're happy here? Really?"

I nodded against his shoulder as my stomach fluttered with nervous butterflies. "Yes. Very, that's what I feel so…bad."

"Can I ask…what made you call me that night? In the middle of the night?"

I blushed and gripped my cup, tucking my legs underneath my body to lean further into him. He pulled me closer as if it was natural, his hand brushing my arm as it sat tucked behind my shoulder.

"I just…I had been spending a lot of time with my mom, in the library. Reading. I came across this quote-"

"-Who said it?"

"I couldn't tell you," I laughed softly. "Sometimes when I dream, I sense a part of me that's missing. It's a strange feeling to have your heart remember something that your mind cannot."

He sighed as I spoke, my words hanging in the dark air.

"It was just so fitting, I…it resonated with me I guess," I muttered.

Peeta chuckled, nodding. "I can see that."

"Yeah, well…I guess I just related to it and I was sick of feeling so alone. I don't feel that way when I'm with you."

I felt him lean his cheek against my hair, inhaling softly.

"I'm always here for you, Katniss. I'd never let anything bad happen to you again. Even if…you never get your memory back, I'll still be here. Even if you…decided you just wanted to be friends, or…or whatever, I would be that for you."

I let my head rest on his shoulder. "You're sweet."

He sighed, his cheek resting on top of my head. "No, I'm just glad to have you back with me, home. I'll take what I can get."

I leaned against his side, enjoying the feeling of another human so close to me. As crazy as it sounded, I had been craving something as simple as the human touch for days now. It felt amazing to be sitting tucked into his side in the darkness of the apartment, the smell of the tea soothing my frazzled nerves. Soon, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. I barely felt Peeta pull the mug of tea from my hands and set it on the table beside us. I felt the blanket get pulled over my body, the warmth of it mixed with Peeta snuggled against my side soon lulling me to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19: Happy

The early morning light hit my eyes, making me squint. Tall windows. I squinted again. Figuring it was fruitless, I closed my eyes again and hoped it was too early to have to get up. I was too comfortable.

Breath on the top of my head.

It smelled like flour.

Peeta.

So warm.

The heat seeped up from the blankets, starting at my toes and travelling all the way up my body. It felt so good. Everything was perfect temperature but the tip of my nose. All of my sleepy thoughts seemed to hone in on the fact that my nose was freezing cold.

Figures.

I pressed my nose against the bare skin under my cheek, warming it. I snuggled closer to the hot body next to me. My feet scrunched up inside their fuzzy socks, glad to be so cozy. I frowned as I felt his cold toes beside mine, just barely sticking out of the blanket. I hooked my foot around them and pulled them under the blanket with mine to heat them. There…

Peeta sighed appreciatively beside me and nuzzled his head into my hair before burrowing down under the blanket with me. I inhaled slowly, taking in the scent of mild soap and faint traces of cinnamon and flour. My breath blew across his bare chest, my nose still pressed against his bare skin in its attempts to warm itself. My body was curled around his, soaking up the feeling of….

Wait.

My eyes flew open.

I lifted my head off Peeta's chest with a nervous huff, scanning the room wildly. That had felt…familiar.

Willing my body to freeze for a second, I felt like I had just woken up from a good dream. I wanted to close my eyes again and chase the feeling; I wanted to press 'resume'. Waking up with him, cuddling, pressing against him…that had felt normal.

Routine.

It felt like a memory, almost like déjà vu.

My head spun a little as I tried to get my bearings. What had happened? I could remember dinner with Finnick and Annie, I could remember not sleeping…then the tea…I had fallen asleep with Peeta, that's what. I had fallen asleep with him on the couch, and we must have shifted in the middle of the night. My heart began to pound in my chest as I realized I was trapped between Peeta's large, heavy body and the back of the plush couch. There was no way to get up without him realizing it.

Husband or not, there was no way this wasn't going to be at least a tad bit awkward.

Fuck.

I tried anyway. I wasn't sure what to say to him if he found is cuddled together like this. Of course I liked him, but this had the makings of one hell of an awkward situation. I gulped and tried to focus as my panicked mind whirred to motion. I moved slowly, trying to lean up without him realizing it. His arm around my back tightened, and he pulled my body gently back against his.

"Five more minutes babe, come on," he pleaded sleepily.

I tried to play along, hoping he was still half asleep. "I have to get up," I whispered.

He pulled me even closer in his sleep, shaking his head. "I'll make it worth your while…" he whispered.

I winced and let my head fall back against his chest. His lips lazily brushed against my forehead as he let a sleepy hand brush over the top of my head. He was still for a few seconds before I felt his body jolt.

"Oh….oh shit, Katniss?" he mumbled, lifting up his head. I sat up sheepishly, watching his bleary blue eyes focus on mine. He looked like a little kid as he fought to wake up. So much for that idea.

"Um…I'm…sorry," I muttered. "We fell asleep."

"Oh God, um…" he fumbled with the blanket as he sat up on the couch, his loose sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. He yanked them up with a shy smile and shook his head as he stood up from the couch and yawned.

"I can go back to our…my own bed," I offered quickly. "I just…after the tea and whatnot, I just feel asleep."

Peeta laughed hoarsely, shaking his head. "I did too. No, it's okay though. Stay here, I just…I actually have to get in the shower."

I frowned. "It's practically still dark out!" I protested. Part of me wanted to go back to the way we were.

He shook his head and reached down, pulling the blanket back over my legs. "Baker's hours. Just sleep and…come downstairs today if you get bored. I have to get down there though. It's a Monday, and I open on Mondays. I'm gonna take quick shower and then leave, okay?"

I nodded. "It's too early," I yawned, leaning back on the couch pillows.

He chuckled and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. "I know. I'm used to it though. Sorry we…I mean, I didn't mean to…"

"It's okay," I said, letting my eyes droop closed.

"I'll set the coffee timer to start in a few hours, okay?" he whispered, leaning down. My eyes fell back shut due to the early hour and I barely remembered the feeling of his hand as it brushed across the top of my head. I was out like a light.

I awoke a few hours later to bright sunlight streaming through the tall windows. I stretched against the plush couch cushions and sighed. I had fallen asleep last night with Peeta. On Peeta, to be more specific. We had cuddled. A warm, unfamiliar feeling rushed through me as I sat up and pulled the thick quilt around my shoulders. I couldn't deny the giddy feeling that pulsed through my veins at the memory of waking up burrowed under the covers with a toasty Peeta next to me. It was too nice. I hadn't wanted to wake up.

I frowned as I remembered the short déjà vu feeling that had washed over me when I had awoken. What was that about? Was my head trying to tell me something? I closed my eyes and tried to take myself back in time to the feeling of waking up next to him. It had felt normal – like it was something I had done a hundred times. But that feeling had been so fleeting. It was confusing, but a hopeful start.

Most of the time I spent thinking about my memories was worrying how exactly they would come back to me. Would it be sudden and like a jolt? Or would they come back one by one without my even realizing it?

I shuffled over to the kitchen area, noticing that a half a pot of coffee was brewed and already waiting for me. I wrapped the quilt around my shoulders and poured myself a cup. My eyes squinted at the little post it note on top of the coffee maker.

'Look outside the front door'

Frowning, I hobbled sleepily over to the door. I opened it, unsure what to expect. No one was there. I glanced down at the welcome mat before a huge smile broke out on my face. A brown 'Mellark Bakery' bag was waiting there. Like a giggly school girl, I yanked it up and brought it inside. It steamed slightly when I opened it, indicating the cream-cheese pastry he had left for me was fresh. I bit into it and hummed in appreciation, not even bothering to put down the bag. I wandered around the apartment as I ate, taking things in and appreciating a little time to myself. Not that I didn't enjoy Peeta's company, but it was nice to get a chance to roam around our living space and explore without worrying about him. I knew he wanted me to remember, and sometimes it was clearly painful for him when I couldn't.

I shuffled up the steps with the quilt still around my shoulders back to the bedroom. The tousled covers from the night before when I couldn't sleep were taunting me, so I dutifully made the bed. Growing up I didn't have a lot to do; we didn't have cable or video games or even a computer, so Prim and I spent a lot of our time organizing and cleaning. Both of my parents worked a lot, so I knew to teach her to be organized from the start. Parents that came home to a clean house at the end of the day were a lot less cranky. I made the bed and straightened up, tossing my dirty clothes in the hamper. Curious, I opened a door in the corner of the room and found that it was a cramped, walk in closet. It was packed to the rim with clothes, shoes, and other knickknacks. Some I recognized, but most I didn't. My eyes fell on an organized row of shirts and pants and realized they were Peeta's. He seemed like a tidy guy, or at least one that tried to be. My hands brushed over the shirts, feeling the different fabrics. I pulled the sleeve of one out, sniffing it tentatively. I closed my eyes and tried to remember.

It smelled like laundry detergent and…faint traces of Peeta's scent. Well, what did you expect? I chided myself. Of course it would smell like him. It's his.

I sniffed and smelled my way through his side of the closet, hoping to find something familiar. Peeta's clothes all smelled nice, but….the scents were fairly new to my nose, nothing ringing a bell. With a sigh of defeat, I went back downstairs and began pacing around. The hallway next to the bathroom had a few framed pictures that I had been meaning to examine further, so I headed that way. My eyes scanned the walls, taking it all in. I saw pictures from my childhood and what I assumed were his; pictures of the two of us, and finally one that I assumed was our wedding day. Peeta was dressed in a simple white shirt and black tie, and I was in a casual white dress. I had a white flower tucked behind my ear and a bouquet in my hands. We were looking into each other's eyes and laughing; it was a very candid black and white photo.

I put my hands on my hips and stared at it. I didn't look like that girl and I certainly didn't feel like her. Yet, at least. That girl was so happy her smile was threatening to split her face in two. She looked like her cheeks hurt from laughing so much. She looked exuberant, and that was never a word I had associated with myself.

Was that me?

Of course it was. Just because I didn't remember being that happy didn't mean I never had been, right?

Realization hit me over the head as I stood in the hallway, gaping at the photo. Peeta was willing to give that to me again, and I was willing to accept it. Or…at least try to.

I wanted to be the girl in that photo again. I wanted to feel happy and look happy and just…be happy.

I wanted to take whatever Peeta was offering, and I wanted to start now.

Slipping into a pair of shoes, I didn't even bother changing out of my pajamas. I grabbed a flannel shirt off the coatrack and wrapped it around myself before hurrying down to the bakery. My excited breaths echoed in the narrow stairway and I could feel my heart flopping wildly inside my chest. I realized that Peeta had made me feel this was several times since I had come home, but this was the first time I was more than willing to embrace it. I knew he was working, but something told me he wouldn't mind what I had to tell him. I slipped inside, immediately overwhelmed by all the people. It was bustling with activity and smelled like heaven as I wove my way through the line. A few people sighed with annoyance as I appeared to be cutting in line for a pastry, but that was the last thing on my mind.

I wanted to be that girl in the photo again to desperately it made my insides ache.

I wanted to be happy again.

I made my way through the customers, dodging hot coffee and hurrying around people until I was up by the wide counter. A small, dark haired girl looked up with doe-eyed surprise, freezing mid-punch as she rung up a customer. Recognition blazed in her small, toffee colored gaze for a second that broke my heart a little.

Another person I didn't know.

She finished what she was doing and held up her finger to the woman who was next in line. Her smooth voice rang out over the hustle and bustle of the customers in the shop, making another nervous wave wash over me. I contemplating running back upstairs, but I knew I needed to do this.

"Peeta?"

"Yeah?" he called from the back.

She glanced back toward the kitchen and then back at me. "Um…you should come up here."

The other boy working behind the counter paused, his dark eyes growing a little wider as they took me in. I glanced down nervously, realizing I was in a pair of moccasins, my leggings, and a sloppy flannel shirt. My hair was still in a messy braid from the night before and I probably looked like a hot mess. I winced a little as Peeta emerged from the kitchen. His cheeks were the ruddy pink I had grown to love, his blonde hair a tousled mop on top of his head. He wore a white apron with his white t-shirt, and both were doused in flour. His blue eyes darted around the front of the bakery, confused for a moment until they saw me. His expression immediately softened.

"Katniss?"

The small girl continued ringing people up, but her dark eyes kept darting towards me as her fingers moved over the cash register. The other boy went back to work, but not before they exchanged a look. Peeta wound his way around the counter, taking my hand in his.

"Are you alright honey?"

I gripped his hand and let him pull me back behind the counter, into the kitchen around the corner.

"I just need to talk to you…I'm sorry to come down while you're working, but…"

"It's okay," he said, pulling me further into the kitchen. "You're not bothering me. Is something wrong?"

My silly mind immediately flashes to Gale. He would have been furious if I interrupted him during work. Once we were out of everyone's view, I bit my lip and nodded. All the things I had been dying to tell him sixty seconds ago seemed to be lodged in my throat.

"I'm fine, I just….I saw our wedding photo."

Peeta froze slightly for a second as he watched my face. Then he nodded brightly, a small smile dancing faintly on his lips. His blue eyes got a faraway look as he added softly, "That was a nice day."

I could only shrug and find his hands. I wound my fingers in-between his, craving closeness with him. "It looked like it, yes."

"Is something wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, I just…I want to be that girl again. That happy girl that just looked so…complete. I was happy, wasn't I?"

Peeta squeezed my hands in his flour covered ones and bobbed his head. I could feel tiny pieces of dough that were still trapped in the lines of his hands. "I think you were very happy, yes. Katniss, I…I want you to be that girl again too. But I don't want you to feel pressured…. Tell me what I can do to…to make her come back or help her come back and I'll do it," he pleaded.

I swallowed roughly and tried to remember what I had wanted so badly just five minutes ago before all of this nervousness had sprung up in my stomach. "I…will you take me out on a date?"

Peeta gave me a boyish smile of disbelief and it made me notice the line of flour that was smeared across his nose. He exhaled softly. "Of course I will. But you're asking me out? Are you sure your memory didn't come back because that's a very 'you' thing to do," he chuckled.

"I swear it didn't; this would be a much different conversation if it had, unfortunately. But…will you go out with me? On…a-a date?"

His doughy, flour covered hands squeezed mine. "I'm your husband; I uh…kinda have to say yes, don't I?"

I felt a little of my nervousness dissipate, but I was still waiting for his final answer. "Yes, but….your wife not knowing you kinda cancels out that 'have-to-cuz-you're-husband' thing," I admitted sheepishly. Peeta gave me a knowing smile.

"I don't think it does. And yes, I'll take you out. How's tomorrow night?"

"Perfect," I said without thinking. "Pick me up in the bread van?"

Peeta guffawed loudly, his blue eyes wide. "Why Katniss Everdeen, are you trying to recreate our first date? Because you're doing an awfully good job of it so far!"

I shook my head and squeezed his hands with a nervous gulp. "Well…maybe. But…it's Katniss Mellark, not Everdeen," I corrected him.

Peeta grinned back at me with a smile that could have rivaled the sun. "You're right. You're Katniss Mellark."

"Well I got the technical stuff right…the rest is just details."

He exhaled shakily, his eyes growing a little misty. "Yeah…just details. Katniss Mellark. The rest is just details. I like that," he admitted. He sniffed and looked away as his cheeks pinkened. I met his gaze and saw that he was close to crying.

"Peeta," I said softly. My heard suddenly felt like it could shatter into a million little pieces on the flour covered floor. What was with me? I had never been one for such soft guys before. How did this one have such an effect on me? I reached over and threw my arms around his middle, pulling him close to my body in a tight hug. He sniffed again and hugged me back so tight I lost my ability to breathe for a moment. But I didn't mind. I felt safe again.

I gave him a minute to collect himself before reaching up and wiping the flour off of his nose. He laughed and blushed harder. "I'm a crier," he admitted. "I get it from my dad."

"It's okay. You just got misty; it's allowed," I whispered. My head tilted up to look at him, and it felt like my body was suddenly locked into place. Peeta stared down at me with bright, glassy eyes and his arms still around me. My tongue darted out and nervously licked my lips as I wondered if this was the moment or not. He blinked slowly, his mouth opening slightly as if he wasn't sure what to do or say. My head started to move towards his on it's own accord as my eyes started to slowly close. It happened so fast but yet like slow motion; I couldn't explain it. I was just drawn to him.

A loud clanging made us jump apart quickly. My head jerked to the side to see what the noise had been as Peeta swore under his breath. In the doorway to the kitchen stood the small, dark haired girl from before scrambling to pick up the empty tray she had just dropped. Her pretty brown eyes watched me closely as I brushed my wild hair away from my face. I suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

"Sorry," she squeaked. "We're out of the sourdough."

Beside me, Peeta exhaled shakily and bit back a frustrated laugh. "It's okay Rue," Peeta sighed, "Come see Katniss."

The girl walked slowly up to me, as if I were a wild animal. She ducked her head and grinned before walking over and smiling sweetly at me.

"I'm Rue," she offered. "It's good to see you."

I nodded nervously, trying to smile at her. Her beautiful mocha skin was tinged pink and I could tell she was sorry for dropping the tray and interrupting us.

"I'm Katniss."

She beamed. "I know."

I laughed. Right, well…I know your momma. She was really nice to me," I added. "She was really nice to me when I needed a friend."

The little girl in front of me lifted her chin slightly as I noticed a little glint in her eye. "You sure that was my momma?"

Peeta snickered behind me and shuffled over to the ovens. I watched as he pulled a few loaves of bread out and placed them on a cooling rack for her. "There's your sourdough missy."

"It was her," Rue said finally. "I'm just playing."

"Oh," I laughed, "Well, she was certainly nice to me when I needed it."

Rue shrugged and grinned sheepishly. "She's alright I guess," she giggled.

Peeta shook his head and reached over to give her a light shove. "You have your bread, now go back up front and charm people into buying it. I'll be up there in a minute, alright?"

Rue nodded and gave me a small wave before heading back up to the front of the store. I eyed Peeta curiously as I noticed her exchange a look with the other boy that was now working the register in her place.

"He's cute," I offered quietly, nodding towards him. "Are they a thing?"

Peeta groaned and shook his head. "God I hope not. That's Thresh, my other full timer. But yeah, I think they just started dating. The last thing I need are two of my best employees to date and then break up," he chuckled. "What are you up to today?"

I shrugged, pulling the flannel shirt tighter around my body. "Um…nothing, I guess. I was just gonna go back upstairs and hang out until you got there," I admitted.

"Alright, well…I might grab a pizza or something for dinner, is that alright? Maybe have a movie night tonight?"

"That sounds good. I like cheese and tomatoes on my pizza," I added without thinking.

Peeta only grinned in response. I suddenly realized he definitely already knew that, but…it was all new to me.

"Right," I laughed. I gave him a wave and headed for the door to the bakery. I was about to pull it open when it swung out and in stepped a blonde, scraggly looking man. I was about to push past him without even looking at him but he stopped me gently and gave me a strange look.

"Katniss?"

I paused in the doorway and looked up at him in confusion. "Um, yes?"

His red rimmed, hazy eyes scanned mine for a second before he grunted. "Shit. You are gone, ain't cha?"

"I'm sorry, I don't…who are you?"

He reached for my hand and grabbed it. "Haymitch. I own Abernathy's."

"Is that…that's the bar where I work? Oh…so you're my boss," I said slowly. "Sorry I haven't been around."

He shrugged slowly, his eyes looking me up and down as if he was making sure it was me. "I could use some help after Thanksgiving. Think you'll be alright by then?"

"Oh, um…yeah. Sure. I can come back."

He grunted again. "Good. Have the boy bring you down the day after Thanksgiving and we'll put you to work."

With that, he pushed past me to go into the bakery. I chewed my lip as I made my way back up the stairs to our apartment, trying to sort everything out. It appeared my old life was coming back to me whether or not I was ready for it.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Lingering Demons

I spent the rest of the day giddily wandering around the apartment, unable to focus on any one thing for more than five seconds. It was unlike me to let anything to do with a guy have me all girly and excited, but….I was. I had a date with Peeta tomorrow night. I found myself unable to focus on anything but the nervous butterflies in my stomach. But they weren't the bad kind – they were the good kind. It reminded me of how I felt as a kid on Christmas morning.

This wasn't like me to get excited about a date, but maybe that was the point.

Things were finally heading in the right direction – the way they had been going when I had fallen out of the stupid tree.

And I was going to be happy about it.

Certain about it.

Happy.

I was going to embrace the new me.

Peeta walked through the door at almost six, a pizza box in his hand. Balanced on top of that was a six pack of beer and it made me smile. I would take the frills of going out to dinner with him, but it was nice to know he could be low key as well.

"Dinner is served!" he announced jovially, tossing the box down onto the counter. As he brushed past me to put the beer in the fridge, I felt his hand on my shoulder. He gave it a friendly squeeze before letting it linger there for a second. "Did you have a good rest of the day?"

He eyed his own hand on my shoulder and timidly removed it, avoiding my gaze. I felt strange about it; I didn't mind Peeta touching me. It made me feel….different.

Excited.

Good.

My mouth went a little dry as I tried to remember what he had even asked in the first place. I nodded as he took two beers out of the six pack and effortlessly popped the caps off. He handed me one and clinked it against mine with a small smile.

"Yeah, I just…I was a waste of space really, but…that's okay I figure. I'm still getting used to things, and I'm just…I'm not going to rush anything anymore. I'm just going to let it come back to me naturally," I said.

Peeta sipped his beer and watched me with his kind, expressive blue eyes. "That sounds like a great idea. I think that will take some pressure off of you and if you feel like you can just relax…." He trailed off with a shrug. "Let's eat that pizza. Yeah? I'm starving."

I nodded happily.

He took the box over to the coffee table and sat down on the couch with a long sigh. I could still see where he had traces of flour and sugar on his arms and shirt as he sat down on the couch we had woken up on that morning. I sat down beside him and watched as he opened up the box of pizza and revealed a mouthwatering masterpiece.

"I'm gonna get so fat living here," I laughed, pulling out a gooey slice. "I feel like I've already gained so much weight from living with a baker that can bake and cook.

Peeta only laughed and nudged me with his elbow. "Don't say that. Besides, your job keeps you walking around and moving all the time – being a waitress in a bar is tough work."

I wrinkled my nose a little. "That doesn't sound like me. Waitressing."

"Well, you got into it for the money, I won't lie. You worked as a barista in a coffee shop before and liked that well enough. Bartending was just a good opportunity for you and you took on a whim I think," he chuckled. "But Abernathy's is a lot like 'Cheers' – very low key, lots of regulars, mostly old guys and couples that come in to watch sporting events and 'Jeopardy'. You like it," he explained as he grabbed a piece of pizza.

We chowed down and sat together on the couch for the rest of the evening. I sat with my leg touching his – not that Peeta minded. He even started to rest his hand on my knee before thinking better of it and putting it in his lap. I giggled to myself at his restraint; most guys would definitely try to cop a cheap feel. But not Peeta.

I had always had a good, comfortable feeling about Peeta – minus the first few days in the hospital – but that had only been magnified by sharing a living space with him. Peeta was just good, through and through. I wondered what type of family he had that had made him the way he was.

"Peeta?"

"Hmmm?"

"What…what are your parents like?"

He sighed, chewing the last bit of crust before taking another sip of his beer. "Well…my dad was a baker his whole life until he retired a few years ago, leaving me the business. Now he just tinkers around the house and kinda takes orders from my mom," he said with a winkle of his nose. "She's a lot to handle."

I frowned. "You don't like your mom?"

Peeta shook his head firmly. "No, I love her, of course…I just….I don't particularly like her."

"What does that mean?"

"Well…I was her third and final attempt at a girl and when she didn't get one…she made no secret that she didn't want another boy my whole life, that's for sure."

"Your own mother?"

"Yeah…It's alright though. I mean, I get it, whatever. She wanted a girl and she got me. I kinda paid for it as a kid."

"That's awful."

He shook his blond head. "Nah. I was all about my dad. My older brothers were close in age and about five years older than me, so I was definitely the baby. When they would gang up and me or leave me out he would take me out and do stuff, just us. How do you think I got so good at decorating cakes?" he chuckled. I smiled weakly. Peeta's mother sounded like a real wench.

"I was just…not what she wanted. She loved me but I could never quite live up to her expectations. Eventually….I just stopped trying."

"How?"

"Oh," he sighed, "I was never as good at sports as my oldest brother, never quite got the grades my second brother got…little things. She just…held them to a different standard. But dad made up for it. And when I stopped living at home when I got old enough she kinda gave up a bit. Eased up, you know….so it's not as bad now. I get along with her."

"Does she like me?"

Peeta grinned. "You've put her in her place a few times, yeah. They came to visit you when you were um…in the coma."

"Oh," I said sadly. "I never even thanked them."

He shook his head. "Nah, it's alright. They understand. My dad misses you though."

"That's what you said…I take it he thinks I'm alright?"

Peeta laughed and nudged me again. "He loves you, Katniss. He still asks how much I have to pay you to stay married to me. He's kidding," he said quickly when he saw my face of horror. "He's proud I snagged myself such a catch," he added flirtatiously.

I looked away and tried not to laugh. "Riiight…you snagged yourself a bartender with a blank memory. Good job," I added sarcastically.

Peeta only laughed and grabbed another piece of pizza.

My eyes started to droop after a few hours and I stood up and stretched. "I'm gonna shower and get to bed…um…in my own bed tonight." I replied sheepishly. Peeta laughed and nodded.

"Gotcha. Well….I'll most likely be gone before you wake up so….I'll see you tomorrow night for our date."

Something about the way his blue eyes sparkled when he said 'date' made the stupid butterflies in my stomach start up all over again. Why did he have to be so damn charming all the time? I nodded and gulped slightly as he stood up directly in front of me. He was so close I could smell the traces of sugar and flour that had lingered on him that morning. My mind flashed back to that morning when I had woken up with my nose pressed up against his bare chest and I immediately began to blush.

"What's wrong?"

I glanced up at him, caught slightly off guard by our proximity. "Um…nothing," I laughed nervously. "I'm gonna go upstairs."

He bobbed his head as I brushed past him and I could feel his disappointment in the air as I made it to the bottom step to the loft. I turned around.

"Peeta?"

He turned around with a surprised expression. "Yes?"

I bit my lip and tried to sound as sincere as I could as I twisted my hands together nervously. "I'm really excited for our date tomorrow."

A slow smile spread across his face that seemed to light up the room. I felt pretty good to have contributed to that, to be honest.

He ran a hand through his disheveled hair and laughed nervously, obviously having been caught off guard. "Uhm…I'm really looking forward to it too."

We stood there for a second, grinning at each other like goons before I ducked my head and hurried up the steps. I didn't stop moving until I was under the steamy hot water in the tiny upstairs shower.

I lathered up my hair and rinsed, taking an extra-long time to stand under the hot sprays of water as they beat down on my back. I had no excuse to be tired; I hadn't done anything all day. Even though I had fully accepted the fact that I wanted to try again with Peeta as the 'new' me, I was still a little nervous about things.

After all, to me this was our first date.

As I stood under the hot jets of water, I began to think about that morning. It didn't take much to conjure the image in my mind again. Waking up next to his warm, firm body...feeling the way his solid muscles felt under my cheek.…smelling the traces of flour that lingered on his skin…seeing the way his sweatpants hung off his hips…the way he looked went he bent over to pick up the blanket…

Shit.

I was completely hot and bothered but in a good way before I even knew what was happening. Peeta stirred something deep in my core that had my body aching and needy and completely wound at just the thought of him.

My hand slid down on its own accord. I felt the soapy remnants sliding down my skin but ignored them to lean against the tile wall and let my thoughts get away with me. I brought back the pictures of him in my mind, the short bits I had stored away there playing like a movie clip on a loop. I couldn't remember the last time I had gotten off and my body was suddenly screaming at me to just do it already. There was no turning back now that the naughty images and thoughts of Peeta were suddenly assaulting my senses. I bit my lip to keep from moaning as my fingers found a familiar rhythm that felt…well, quite nice. With all the stressing and worrying I had done lately, it felt good to simply loose myself in pleasure and fantasy.

It was even nicer to think of Peeta and do it.

I gasped slightly as my body began to respond to my own touch. I felt a little strange doing this in a new place that I wasn't familiar with, but I pushed the thought from my mind as I slid my soapy fingers over the apex between my thighs. The idea that the very cause of my enjoyment was right downstairs within reach did a number on my already needy body. A tremor of pleasure surged through my limbs, tingling and ricocheting off my insides, threatening my firm footing on the shower floor. My knees quaked slightly as I thought of the way his muscled chest had looked the other night as he had put the blankets on the couch.

Oh fuck yes.

Peeta's body was studly perfection; there was no denying that. Where Gale was long and lean and perfectly toned, Peeta was shorter but thicker and more solidly built. I felt guilty comparing them, but in all honestly it worked in Peeta's favor. His thick, stocky body really worked for him.

And it was working like a charm for me.

My body quivered against the tile as I rubbed myself to completion. A high, raspy moan slipped from my mouth before I could control it as I lost myself to my fantasies in the steam.

"Katniss? Are you alright?"

I froze, my insides still quivering with pleasure as I realized Peeta was on the stairs. I had left the bathroom door open slightly figuring he wouldn't come upstairs and oh my god he heard me. He heard me come!

Panic replaced the pleasure.

"Uh…Erm, yea, I'm fine," I managed to squeak pitifully. I brushed the water from my wide eyes and felt like crawling into a hole and dying. He had heard me pleasuring myself. Could this be any more humiliating?!

Silence loomed, the only sound the shower.

"Oh…okay, well…I just um…thought I heard something," he admitted.

There was another pregnant pause.

"I'm going to bed, alright? Just…I'll be right here if you…need me," he said awkwardly.

What the hell did that mean? I felt my cheeks burning under the hot water.

"Okay!" I called, covering my face with my hands. I heard him go back down the steps as the water continued to pour down on me. I felt so utterly embarrassed and silly that I wanted to die. I stayed in the hot water for another twenty solid minutes, hoping that he would be asleep by the time I got out. When I changed into my pajamas and braided my damp hair, I didn't dare look over the loft railing to see if he was still awake or not.

Much to my relief, Peeta was long gone by the time I woke the next day. I sat up in bed and stretched, noting how well I had slept – no dreams at all. Heat rose in my cheeks when I realized I always slept well after an orgasm, self-given or not. That much I did know about myself. My blush deepened when I realized Peeta had most likely heard me.

"Shit," I grumbled, stepping out of bed. I threw on a pair of baggy sweats and a clean t-shirt, throwing my hair up in a messy bun. I planned to go all out to get ready for our date tonight, so I figured I should relax while I could. I padded down the loft steps and smiled when I saw the coffee waiting for me. A little woven basket full of sesame seed bagels sat on the counter next to it and I wasted no time plucking one up.

"Just call me the carb-queen," I muttered, placing it inside the toaster. I lurked nearby, waiting for the timer to go off and the slices to pop up so that I could coat them with some of the hazelnut cream cheese I had found. If I didn't weigh a thousand pounds by the time this was all over I would be shocked – being married to a baker was the life!

I lolled around for the morning, feeling utterly guilty I wasn't at work. Maybe I would have Peeta take me down to Abernathy's before the Friday after Thanksgiving; I was ready to get back to doing something productive with my time besides inhaling carbs.

As the hours ticked on, I started getting ready for our date. I took a deep breath in front of the mirror and reminded myself that I was moving towards being happy. I pictured Peeta's smile the day before in the bakery when I told him I had found our wedding photo.

Suddenly, I had my courage again. A long bath in the downstairs bathroom was followed by a date with a razor – I hadn't shaved anywhere in too long to mention, and I wanted to be ready.

I paused in the bathwater, the razor paused at the top of my thigh. Did I dare shave anywhere else? If I didn't, I knew I wouldn't sleep with him. But would leaving my feminine bits unkempt guarantee I wouldn't act like a harlot? I hoped so. Putting the razor down, I sunk into the water and shook my head at myself and thought of the previous morning when we had woken up together.

My body remembered him. Why couldn't my head?

By the time Peeta got home I was nervous.

Like, first date nervous.

Chewing my nails, biting my lip, and bouncing my leg at the makeup table in the corner of the master bedroom.

"Katniss?"

"I'm up here, I'm getting ready!"

"Alright, just let me hit the shower and then I'll be good to go alright?"

"Alright," I laughed, thankful we had an open floor space in which to yell.

I listened as he hummed to himself and started the shower downstairs. I had my hair down and parted to the side and was attempting to use a very strange looking curling iron that I didn't remember. It resembled a unicorn horn and was very hard to use, but I wanted to try my best to look nice for Peeta. He had been nothing but kind and endearing to me and so selfless.

I wanted to be the happy girl in the photo, after all.

After scouring the most recent issue of Cosmo I could find, I had discovered that long sweaters and leggings were the in thing to wear. No wonder Prim had insisted I take so many of hers. I pulled on a pair of dark leggings and an emerald green long sweater. I pulled on the black boots she had given me and glanced in the mirror. I didn't look half bad, but I was missing something. I plopped down at the makeup table in the corner of our bedroom and looked at the little jewelry box. I discovered a pair of purple chandelier earrings that would offset the green nicely.

Offset the green nicely? Wow. I really did spend too much time with Prim, I thought with a tiny smile. That brought me to another thought. The next day I would be going to visit my mother for the first time since I had gone to live with Peeta. Already it felt like a lifetime ago, yet it had barely been a week.

Baby steps, Everdeen. Baby steps.

After adding the earrings and a few touches of simple makeup, I was ready. By the time I got to the bottom of the steps, so was Peeta. He stood in the kitchen, sipping a glass of water nervously as I walked down the steps. He greeted me with a smile as I took in his freshly showered hair and clean shave. He had really gone out of his way for our date, I realized as a few more nervous butterflies made themselves known. I watched him lick his lips as he took me in.

"You look amazing." he said softly.

"So do you." I echoed back. There was a buzzing spark of imaginary electricity zooming between us, ricocheting to and fro. I couldn't see it, but I knew it was there between us. I sucked in another nervous breath. He wore a button up black shirt, dark jeans, and boots. The outfit was simple but made him look quite debonair and sophisticated; something I wasn't used to seeing with Peeta.

"I thought you said on our first date you were covered in flour and still wearing your apron?" I challenged.

He grinned. "Hey, when your wife wakes up with a clean slate…you gotta take the chance to go back and do things right the second time," he laughed, walking over to the coat rack. After helping me into my own coat, he slipped into his and we were off. I laughed in surprise when I saw the white delivery van with 'Mellark Bakery' etched on the side waiting in the alley for us.

Peeta only shrugged. "Okay, some things I didn't want to change."

He helped me inside like a gentleman before running around to the other side. As he started the old van up with a rumble I had a chill go up my spine and it wasn't from the cold. This was the same van where our first kiss had taken place. My eyes betrayed me and snuck a glance at him. He grinned back as he pulled out of the alley and into traffic.

I realized something suddenly.

I wanted to kiss Peeta.

I wanted to do more than kiss Peeta.

My mind went back to my shower the night before and I blushed in the dark van. There was no denying what had happened; I had thought of Peeta and gotten off. I'd gotten off hard. So what now? If we were married and had obviously had sex before and now I didn't remember him, where did that leave us? I was physically and emotionally attracted to him, but did that mean we had to start over? My body reacted to him in traitorous ways that was for sure. I shifted on the seat as I felt myself get stressfully turned on. I wanted to enjoy tonight, not feel like I wanted to climb the walls from pent up sexual need.

Peeta noticed my silence as he drove, his blue eyes looking over to me in the dark light of the van.

"You alright?"

I nodded, giving him a small smile. "Just…jitters."

He laughed and pounded his hand on the steering wheel. "You too? Okay good…then it's not just me," he chuckled.

"No, it's not," I laughed nervously.

He pulled into a parking lot a few minutes later and sighed as he put the van in park, killing the engine. "Look, let's just…have fun tonight, okay? No pressure. Even if you totally screw this up you can still take me home with you – promise," he joked, holding up his hands.

I pretended to scoff and gave his shoulder a playful slap as he laughed like a little kid.

As we walked into the restaurant, I boldly slipped my hand into his. Peeta glanced over at me and bit back a smile before squeezing his palm against mine. It felt nice.

"So this is where you took me on our first date?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I….I guess I wanted to impress you."

I smiled at his shy gaze and looked around. "Well…color me impressed."

He shrugged. "When the girl of your dreams finally demands you take her out on a date, you know, you have to deliver I suppose," he laughed.

"Right, right. Well…swanky. Can we afford this?"

Peeta rolled his eyes. "Yeah," he said cockily, clenching his jaw. He softened a second later and gave me a comical look. "Okay, like, once a year we can."

I giggled and sipped my glass of red wine. Peeta had insisted we split a bottle, so I had chosen the cheapest one I could find on the menu. We were in an upscale French bistro on the 'Gale' side of town as I had nicknamed it, and realized I had been there before. With Gale. I didn't mention this to Peeta, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

"I just wanted you so bad that night. I had to pull out all the stops," he sighed quietly.

"And that obviously included a bread van."

"Obviously," he agreed in a deadpan voice.

I giggled at his comedic antics and shook my head at him. "You're cute," I said, attempting to flirt. Peeta chuckled and rested his hand on my knee as we laughed together. Then, his laughter quickly faded as he looked past me. I jerked my head to the side to see what had caused his sudden change in demeanor and immediately regretted it. Gale was approaching our table with a few people I recognized from his company.

Shit.

The floor felt like it was being yanked out from beneath me as I watched him approach. He wasn't stupid enough to actually walk up to us, right? My stomach did another nervous twist as I realized that was exactly what Gale was doing. Peeta's jaw clenched and anger flashed in his eyes for a second as our gazes me.

Holy cow…my husband is rather hot when he's super pissed.

I watched with a slackened jaw as Peeta's jaw clenched tighter and his blue eyes went dark right along with his mood. Despite the stressful situation, I felt my body react to seeing this new possessive side of him. I had to swallow nervously to collect myself.

Peeta stood up with an outstretched hand, nodding to him. "Gale."

Gale gave him a smug grin and shook his hand back. "Peter."

Sonofabitch.

I watched with an annoyed glare as Peeta's jaw clenched, but he said nothing.

"It's Peeta," I practically growled, turning my head up to meet Gale's gaze. Gale dropped Peeta's hand and looked at me questioningly as one of the men with him chuckled. They reminded me of the cool kids in high school and I wanted to slap them.

"I'm sorry Catnip, what did you say?"

"I said," I started, trying not to scream, "His name is Peeta. Not Peter."

Gale held up his hands in a mock apology that made me want to crawl across the table and make him feel sorry he was ever born. "Sorry. Honest mistake."

Peeta sat back down at took a sip of his water. I placed my hand on his knee underneath the table and squeezed it. Obviously Gale's apology from the week before was long forgotten and his mood was soured once again. This wasn't the Gale I had once loved. Money and power had changed him into something practically unrecognizable and completely disgusting.

"I'm sure," I snapped. One glance up at Gale's face and I knew my reaction was nearly getting him off, but I didn't care.

"We miss you around the house, Catnip."

"I bet."

"How are….things?" he asked, his eyes darting between me and Peeta.

"Things are great," I said quickly.

"So…what brings you two kids to this end of town?"

I had had it, and so had Peeta. The only difference between the two of us was that Peeta had more manners than I did.

"Well, it turns out my husband always takes me out to a five star restaurant after we have mind-blowing sex. It's our way to, you know, celebrate." I said stiffly, giving him a sultry glare.

Peeta choked on his water and Gale only glared at me. The men behind him shifted uncomfortably as the area around us grew uncomfortably quiet.

Gale coughed and eyed us both. "Well…congratulations and please…carry on the celebration." he said firmly, turning away. I didn't bother watching him leave.

I turned to Peeta and gave him an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry," I mumbled. He shook his head and took another sip of water.

"It's okay, I just…wow. Um…remind me never to piss you off, okay?"

I slumped miserably in my chair as our food was placed in front of us. Suddenly the creamy pasta dish I had ordered didn't seem all that good. Peeta didn't look like had much of an appetite either. We picked at our food for a few minutes, but the mood between us had obviously died. My heart sank at the realization.

"Do you want to just go home?" he asked softly.

I hated myself, I hated Gale, and I hated the word that came out of my mouth. "Yes."

Without another word, Peeta flagged the waiter for our bill. And just like that, our second chance at a first date had been ruined.

X0x0x0x0x0x

We were quiet on the ride home, both of us stewing with anger. Peeta swore he was just angry at Gale for approaching us, but I was angry with myself. Why did Gale still have such an effect on me? Loathing was seeping through my pores as Peeta parked the bread van behind the bakery and helped me out. The need to blame Gale for our ruined evening was lingering in my thoughts, but I knew that I was the one to blame for it. My ghosts and demons still lingered and were torturing me.

Peeta held our leftovers in a pretty bag as he held our front door open for me. I trudged inside and slipped out of my coat, hanging it on the coatrack with a sad sigh. Peeta placed his hands on my shoulders and gently turned me around.

"Tonight was not your fault."

I hung my head as the heat from his palms burned the top of my shoulders through the sweater. "Yes, it was. I shouldn't have said that to Gale. He just wanted to get a rise out of me and that's just what I gave him. I threw an immature hissy fit that ruined our night."

"Yes, I did."

"No."

"Peeta, yes I-"

Peeta's jaw clenched in that sexy way I loved as he stomped his foot and dropped the bag of food on the floor. "NO! You didn't. You did exactly what I think the old Katniss would have done – should have done. Don't you see it?"

"See what?"

"Just…the whole thing is ridiculous. He's the one the mocked you and accused you of not remembering me or this 'new' you when he's the idiot that doesn't see it! You're you, Katniss. No matter what details you do or don't remember. There is no 'new' you or 'old' you. Don't you see? You saw an asshole being an asshole and you called shenanigans on his little bullshit act. I'm not mad or upset with you Katniss, I'm glad that you said it! You know why? Because that was just something that was so you it almost made me want to laugh in his face."

I balked my jaw dropping. "Seriously?"

He nodded. "Seriously."

"That…strangely makes me feel a little better."

"You have no idea how great it was. I was just pissed he made you so mad. Well…and that he called me Peter."

I giggled momentarily before reaching forward and picking up the bag of our leftovers. "Well…he's lucky I didn't punch that smirk off his face like I would have when we were kids," I snickered. The smells of our expensive meal wafted out of the bag and I glanced at Peeta sheepishly. "Do you care if I maybe heat up my food? I suddenly got my appetite back."

Peeta chuckled and he shook his head. "I um…got mine back too. Hey you want a beer?"

"Love one. Couch?"

"Sure."

He met me on the couch with the boxes of leftovers and two bottles of beer. "To a ruined night," I laughed, clinking my bottle with his.

"To my awesome wife who fights my battles for me," he chimed in, clinking his with mine. We both chuckled and dug into our food. It wasn't half bad cold to be honest. Soon we were watching re-runs and on our third beer of the night. I was beginning to feel a little pleasant buzz seep through my veins as I sat next to Peeta on the couch.

"I know tonight wasn't what I wanted, but…it actually turned out to be pretty awesome," he lamented later.

I tucked my legs underneath my body and leaned against the back of the couch beside him. "It was pretty great, wasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"Well…thanks for recreating part of our first date….the van was a nice touch," I admitted.

"Hey, I tried," he laughed dismissively, waving his hand. I watched his profile from my spot beside him and felt an overwhelming urge to kiss him. Badly.

"Peeta," I said softly, my voice cracking. He turned his head to the side and swallowed roughly.

"Yeah?"

I paused, unsure of what to say. We were already close; so close to could smell his soap and the traces of eggplant parmesan he had eaten for dinner. "You did really well with our first…first-second date."

He exhaled shakily, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. He seemed to realize what I was clumsily terribly trying to initiate. My hands shook slightly as I leaned forward, hoping Peeta would be the one to close the small yet looming gap between us. Ever the knight in shining armor, he did.

Peeta kissed me.

Our lips touched softly, tentatively as we felt each other out. I could feel his breath against my cheek; slow, shaky, and just as terrified and excited as mine. His top lip seemed to fit effortlessly between mine, and we paused to just enjoy the feeling. He let his mouth linger there against mine with just the softest pressure for a few seconds before breaking the kiss. He leaned back slightly, letting me control how far I wanted to take this. His blue eyes opened a crack to gaze into mine. The gravity pulling my lips towards his was finally more than I could handle and I kissed him again.

I was home.


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21: Too Much

Peeta pulled away, licking his lips before his eyes opened slowly. I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed, both of us leaning away slowly. One of my eyebrows rose up slightly in question.

Peeta cracked a smile. "Some things never change I guess."

I laughed softly, suddenly shy and unsure of what to do. He leaned further away from me on the couch, his face red and his eyes wide like they had been in the restaurant after Gale had pissed him off. But this was different. He wasn't pissed, he was….

Could he possibly be as turned on as I was right now?

I had to look away before my horny, traitorous body wrote a check my emotions weren't ready to cash. I wanted to do this right. I had no doubt I was falling in love with Peeta, but I didn't want to ruin it by going too fast. My teeth captured my bottom lip as I looked at my hands. "Sorry."

Peeta turned his head slightly, his eyes still dilated. Without a word, he took his hands and placed them on their side of my face, drawing me to him in a slow, languid kiss. His lips were as soft as clouds as they ghosted over mine, seeming to worship ever square centimeter. The aroused part of me wondered how they would feel elsewhere. He exhaled against my mouth, brushing another slow kiss against my bottom lip. A hot bolt of need and desire shot down to my clit and made it throb. I shifted slightly, trying to relieve it. Peeta was so close to me that my view of him was unfocused, but I saw a flash of mirrored need in his baby blues that made me tremble. He pulled away, still holding my face and rubbed the tip of his nose against mine.

"Don't be sorry. You don't ever have to be sorry for…doing that," he said quietly. "This thing…that we're going through. I'm here, okay? And I'm gonna stay here. But you lead. I'm just following here, alright?"

"I know," I admitted. And I did. Peeta was letting me run the show, following my lead and letting me dictate how fast or slow our new relationship went. And I didn't want to spoil or cheapen it just because I was a little horny.

And if I stayed here with him, I could see myself doing just that.

I gave him a tiny smile. "I should…I think I should go to bed."

He gave a minuscule nod as he let his hands slowly drop from the sides of my face. Glancing down, I took a second to admire them. I wanted those hands on me, in all places, and soon. But not yet.

I stood on shaky legs and bid him goodnight.

I didn't get much sleep that night.

My palm grew sweaty as I gripped my mother's hand, but I kept a tight grasp anyway. If holding her hand and mixing our sweat might bring her back, I would do it. Pathetic, worn out and rejected, I let my head drop.

It was no use.

I lifted my eyes to look into hers, searching for a spark. Anything. Something.

But there was nothing.

Her beautiful bluish grey orbs simply stared right through me with no trace of recognition or emotion.

Cora shuffled around behind me, setting up for afternoon tea. Prim was on the couch beside us, her blonde hair shining in the afternoon sunlight. For a moment, her own blank stare practically mirrored my mother's. Irrational fear shot through me until she blinked and furrowed her perfect eyebrows.

"She won't say anything, you know."

Cora made a disapproving noise under her breath. "She have her good days an' her bad days."

Prim turned her head in annoyance as if she was about to say something ill tempered, but thought better of it. Instead, she shared a look with Rue's mother that clearly spoke volumes. My heart panged with disgust and disapproval for my little sister's new temperament. Things between us were still a little icy, but I wasn't there that day for Prim.

I was there for my mother.

"I met Rue…er, saw her I guess," I told Cora. "She's got your eyes."

Cora paused as she set up the tea tray, her dark eyes turning up to gaze at me fondly. "Thank you," she said sweetly.

Prim waited until Cora went to fetch something else before looking at me in my spot on the other side of our mother. "Who is Rue?"

It was my turn to frown. "Her daughter. She works for Peeta in the bakery."

"Huh," Prim huffed. "How is…Peeta?"

She said the name of my husband like she was spitting out the name of a venereal disease. I was in no mood to deal with Prim that day; I was still riding the high of kissing Peeta the night before on the couch after our pseudo ruined date.

She wasn't going to drag me down with snarky comments. Prim might have changed but she was still her little observant self and had to know that she was annoying me to no end. I think she could feel me growing tired of her.

"He's good. Great, actually."

I paused, debating whether or not to divulge the fact that I had a flashback slash déjà vu moment a few days ago when I woke up on his chest. Prim caught my lapse.

"What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing Prim. He's great, really amazing. You would know that if you'd come visit me."

She arched an eyebrow. "I could come visit you? I've…never been to your apartment."

I shrugged, patting my mother's hand. She turned her head to look at me, but said nothing. "Of course you can. I'd actually like you to get to know him…I mean, he is my husband."

"I know," she said softly. "Isn't it weird though? To live with someone you don't know?"

I bit back a smile and shook my head. "At first, yea. I mean, if you were going to live with someone unexpectedly it should be someone like Peeta. He's a good roommate."

"It's just so strange."

"Prim… I…I think he's what I need to get my memory back."

I watched my sister mull that over for a second, her eyes darting uncomfortably around the room.

"Well…what if you don't ever get it back? Will you stay with him forever?"

Worry laced her pretty features as she watched me. I dropped my mother's hand and wiped my damp palms on my jeans. "Well…he's my husband, Prim. And besides…I like being with him."

She made a disgusted noise and I knew she would no longer be playing nice with me that afternoon. "So…you don't even know him and you're just going to live with him forever? And forget about your family?"

"If I had forgotten about my family, then I wouldn't be here, would I?" I snapped. I had hurt her with my sharp words, I knew it. Prim reeled as though I had slapped her. "Sorry," I offered quietly. "I just…I want to see this through. I was happy with him once, I can be again."

"But haven't you even ever considered that maybe this is a sign, Katniss?"

"Prim, don't be ridiculous."

"NO!" she snapped, "This could be a sign that maybe this wasn't the way your life was supposed to go! You're getting a do-over!"

I stood up and shook my head. "You sound like Gale. He's been effectively brainwashing you I see." I grabbed my coat and kissed my mother's cheek. "I'll be back next week. It would be best if you didn't join us."

"Katniss…don't do this," she said finally as I walked away. "You don't mean it!"

But I did.

I let myself out, thankful that Gale was at work. Being at the Hawthorne Mansion again gave me nothing but bad memories and a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I didn't calm down again until I was in the cab of Peeta's truck he had graciously let me borrow. I slumped against the seat and crossed my arms over my churning stomach as I tried to get a grip on things. I didn't want to be this girl anymore – if it weren't for my mother, I would happily let the mansion and half of the people in it fall of the planet. I sighed, knowing before I had even finished the thought that it wasn't true. My bitterness flavored my food as I let the trunk roar to life.

Just like the last time I had left, I didn't look back.

I drove back to the apartment, parking the truck in the alley behind the bread van. Just the sight of it made me smile a little as I jumped out and slammed the door shut. My breath came out in little puffs of white air as the cold hit me. Hurrying towards the door, I rushed inside towards the steps. But I didn't want to go upstairs to the empty apartment.

Peeta wasn't upstairs.

I pulled on the bakery door feeling like there was a magnet pulling me towards him.

Walking into the bakery the smell of bread and flour and him was everywhere. Peeta, I was realizing always smelled like fresh baked bread. Not a common scent, but an utterly appealing one to have your husband smell like. I waved to Rue when she spied me and asked to see Peeta as my mind worked. If we were starting over, then what did that make him? We had gone on a date and kissed, so…that kind of made him my boyfriend. I laughed at the notion as Peeta rounded the corner from the kitchen.

"Hey!" he called happily. His face lit up when he saw me as he hurried over. "How was your mom?"

I tried not to let my disappointment show, but Peeta was like Prim – he saw everything. "Oh…I'm sorry. Still nothing?"

"No," I said sadly.

Peeta reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "Keep trying," he offered firmly, his blue eyes catching mine. I had a feeling those words had more meaning than one as he wiped his hands on his apron. They could also be applied to me.

"I will," I whispered somewhat sadly. I watched him as he gave me a sympathetic look. He wore the same khaki pants and white t-shirt as the day before, and his apron was doused in bits of frosting and flour.

"What are you up to for the rest of the day?"

I shrugged. "Nothing, I guess. That little visit was all I had on my agenda."

"I'm glad you stopped by," he offered sincerely, picking up a wet rag. He wiped his strong-looking hands on it and watched me closely.

"I…I guess I needed to see you," I admitted sheepishly, giving him a small smile. Peeta lifted his eyes and gave me a cute, lopsided smile that told me he didn't mind at all that I had dropped by.

The bell above the door chimed merrily again as another group of customers walked in. The bakery was swarming with customers that day, as it usually was. Peeta looked up anxiously, his angled jaw still damp with sweat from working so hard. I hadn't meant to bother him and I knew I should probably leave, but I needed to see him and that was the truth.

"You're really busy, um…I should go," I said quietly.

Peeta shrugged. "Next week is Thanksgiving," he said. "I think a lot of people buy my bread for stuffing and things like that. Well, that and I'm starting to make my holiday cookies. Those are always a hit."

"Oh, I should definitely go then," I chuckled. If I wasn't bringing in any income yet, I certainly didn't want to distract him from the only source we had.

He looked around the kitchen, shrugging in his nonchalant way. "You can stay. Think you can help me make bread?"

My eyes darted wildly around the kitchen as I realized I would have no idea where to even start when baking bread. He chuckled to himself and tossed his head slightly.

"You should see the absolutely terrified look on your face right now," he laughed. "Priceless."

Fine then. Challenge accepted. "Okay, okay….I'll give it a shot. Will you just make sure whatever I bake doesn't poison people?"

Peeta was laughing so jovially by now his shoulders were shaking. "It's flour and yeast…I doubt even you could mess that up," he chuckled, wiping the flour from his cheeks. He rubbed his hands together and clapped them loudly, making me jump. He narrowed his eyes at me and gave me a sexy smirk.

"Alright. Get washed up Everdeen. I'm gonna put you to work."

And he did just that.

After washing up and donning a too-large apron I'm sure belonged to him¸ Peeta deemed me ready to bake bread. He put me to work measuring out flour, salt, yeast, and sugar for his fat free French loaf that he said was a big seller. I filled the cups and lined them up in front of the mixture for him to approve before dumping them in and adding the warm water. I watched the ingredients fold together under the powerful mixing wands and sighed. I could see why he enjoyed this; it was rather relaxing. Peeta stood by the side and slowly sifted in more and more flour as I went to work measuring out the next batch.

"Soo….how did the visit go?" he asked quietly. I knew he wanted me to talk about it and not bottle it up, but I just wasn't ready. I felt raw from my visit and didn't want to revisit it so soon, even with Peeta.

I sighed, shaking my head. "I don't…really want to talk about it."

He said nothing else and silently went back to his work. Prim's taunting words rang in my head as I fought to push them away. I paused my duty and grit my teeth together as I thought of Prim and her comments again. I wanted to smack my sister! How dare she? I couldn't get over how arrogant a little bit of money had made her. That wasn't the Prim I knew and I refused to let her go.

Just as she was refusing to let the old me go.

My shoulders slumped as I realized the one trait my sister and I had in common; we were as stubborn as mules and too proud to admit it. Peeta turned his head to look at me with curiosity, but I had to hand it to him – he said nothing.

I exploded.

"It's just that…Prim thinks my not remembering is a sign, you know? A sign that I should give up trying to remember."

Peeta remained silent.

"She thinks that if I was meant to remember I would. Do you believe that?"

He paused, flipping the mixer off. Up front, the bell above the door rung consistently as we stood in the back watching each other. "Honestly?"

I nodded.

"Well…I think everything happens for a reason, yes. But I also think time heals a lot of things."

"But…she's worried I'll never remember."

Peeta exhaled sharply, his blue eyes tearing away from mine. I felt my stomach sink.

"You do too. Don't you?"

He shrugged. "It's crossed my mind before, I won't lie. If you never remember then you never remember. I can't change it and neither can you though, so…"

My voice was rushed and shaky as I spoke. "But you've thought about it though."

"That's not the point. Katniss, look: for about four hours that night…. I thought you were dead that night. Dead. Gone. Never coming back. That almost killed me. I couldn't…I didn't want to even live in a world that didn't have you. Before we found you I….I just remember running through the woods and my mind just went crazy telling me you were dead or abducted or something else horrible…and…I didn't want to live anymore. The thought of not being with you still to this day makes it hard to breathe."

"Peeta," I said hoarsely. His words had shattered me into a million pieces.

"You said…you wanted to be the girl in the picture. In our wedding photo?" he asked. His cheeks had grown pink with emotion and there was more sweat on his brow as he spoke, moving his hands along with his words.

"Yes," I squeaked out.

"I want to be that guy that's standing there with her. If you don't ever remember…I…I'll still love you just the same. I made a vow to do just that – your memory doesn't change the words I said that day."

I shifted on my feet and watched him as he flipped the mixer back on. "You really mean that?" I asked.

The look he gave me clearly was meant as a 'yes'. I sighed and rubbed my aching temples.

"Katniss, you have to stop obsessing about this time thing. Give yourself a break and just relax. Maybe if you took some time to not think about it, it would come back to you-"

"-but I can't! Don't you see?" I suddenly burst out, "This is my life! Not a book I can't remember the ending to or…or forgetting to take the trash out. This is me I can't remember, me!"

"I realize that but-"

"I can't be who everyone wants me to be and that kills me. It kills me to disappoint people day in and day out."

"Would you just listen? You're not disappointing anyone-"

"-How would you feel? Oh that's right – you wouldn't know because you're not me!" I yelled. I sucked in a violent breath as my lungs started to constrict. Tears burned against my eyes as Peeta stared at me. "You're not me."

I hated the way the words sounded as they came pouring out of my stupid mouth, but I couldn't stop them. I was helpless.

Peeta jumped at my outburst and gave me a wounded look before clenching his jaw. "You're right. I don't know how I would feel," he lamented. "I'm sorry."

I turned away from him and let out the breath I'd been holding. I didn't feel any better by saying all of those things – I felt worse. Snapping at the person who had been my only ally and lifeline in this whole ordeal hadn't made me feel any better. Instead, I'd hurt Peeta and made myself even more upset. Before I could blink them away, more hot tears began filing up my eyes making it hard to see. Soon they overflowed without my consent. I ducked my head, embarrassed to be crying in the kitchen of the bakery after throwing a hissy fit. If Peeta told me to pack up my things when we got back to the apartment I wouldn't be shocked.

He had been nothing but kind to me and here I was, yelling at him and blaming him for this whole thing. I had been atrocious. More and more tears began to stream down my cheeks. I fought to brush them away, but the floodgates had opened. How had things gone from so wonderful to so horribly awful?

Because you fucked them up, that's why.

I sniffed and hiccupped as I tried to stop crying, but it was useless. The more I tried to stop it the more tears that poured out of my eyes and down my cheeks. My chest felt tight and constricted as I fought them back with no avail.

Hopelessness settled over me.

And like he always did, Peeta shocked me.

Instead of telling me to get out like I would have done, he simply wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his chest. I hiccupped again as I felt the soft material of his t-shirt under my cheek. His thick, strong, safe arms cocooned me against him, shielding out the world that seemed so out to get me.

"It's okay," he whispered softly. "It's going to be alright, Katniss. We'll get through this."

We.

Not 'you.'

We.

His words melted the ice that seemed to have settled over my heart in a montage of desperate moments.

"How…can…you be sure?" I gasped between tears.

"I just am," he replied slowly, kissing the top of my head. "This is testing us, but we're going to come out stronger. You'll see, Katniss, you'll see. This isn't worth giving up on."

I don't think I remember the last time I cried that hard.

When I could finally collect myself and wipe the tear stains off my cheeks, Peeta offered me one last tight hug. I never wanted to leave the safety of his arms, but I knew that was unrealistic. The front of his white shirt was soaked, but he didn't seem to mind. Instead he led me to the sink so that I could splash some cool water on my face.

His calloused fingertips ran across my forehead, brushing the strands of hair away from my eyes. "Better?"

I nodded and grasped the damp cloth he had handed me. My childish outburst had me feeling humiliated and defeated; Peeta's kind words were my only ray of hope. I knew I couldn't do that to him again as he was apparently just as fragile as I was. He just hid it better. My father had always told me I was strong and fearless; where had that girl gone? I wasn't this weepy, emotional creature.

"I'm sorry."

His eyes searched mine sympathetically. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Yes, I do. I was horrible to you."

I heard footsteps in the doorway and Rue appeared. She took one look at my blotchy face and froze. I silently ducked my head behind Peeta's stocky frame and winced.

"We um…locked up for the day. It's past seven," she explained quickly, placing the moneybag on the counter. Peeta nodded and thanked her and she quickly scurried away. I heard the front door to the bakery chime, signaling her exit. We were alone. I breathed out a puff of relieved air and slumped against the sink. Peeta gave me a sympathetic, boyish look as he reached over and rubbed circles on my back.

If I wouldn't have been so upset the entire situation would have had me swooning, but I could still hear my own sharp words echoing in my mind.

"I'm…sorry I snapped," I admitted. "You didn't deserve that. Just accept my apology?"

"It's alright."

"No, it's really not. You didn't deserve that. You've been every kind of amazing to me and I still bite your head off for no reason sometimes. Am I…always this much of a jerk?"

Peeta laughed, still rubbing my back. "You're not a jerk. You're…fiery. When you get upset and cornered you kinda…lash out."

"Do I do it all the time?" I asked timidly.

He stopped his rubbing and dipped his head to be almost level with mine. "Of course not. Besides…I know your buttons, I don't always push them. You know mine too."

I chuckled and wiped my eyes again. "Peeta Mellark? Angry?"

He shrugged. "Gale's nose met my kind of angry, unfortunately."

I giggled. "Nah, he deserved that."

"I shouldn't have been such a punk. But he insulted my wife, so…." he hummed. His caring eyes watched me for a second, scanning them for any sign that I was still upset. "Don't beat yourself up. Even if you don't remember….you're still you, like I said. The other night in the restaurant and just now…that was you, even if you don't know it."

I blinked and looked up at him. "I'm sick of not remembering. When will I remember?"

For the first time, Peeta didn't have any comforting words to say. Instead, he brushed my hair out of my eyes and pressed his warm lips to my aching temple. It felt so nice I didn't want him to ever stop. But he did, and I was brought back to reality.

"Did our bread get ruined?" I asked meekly, glancing over the counter.

Peeta laughed and reached over to grab my hand to lead me over to where our bread was still mixing. I noticed that ever since our kissing the other night on the couch he had upped the physical part of our relationship – hand holding, touching, etc, but that was as far as he went. Physical contact; it was the friendly kind, nothing sexual or scary. Not that I was complaining – in my opinion he was still giving me far more than I deserved.

"It's fine – see? You can't mess up bread."

I snorted. "You don't know me as well as you claim you do Mellark."

Peeta chuckled quietly and removed the bread from the mixer. "We can just mix up a few more and let them rise overnight. I'll come down in the morning and pop them in the oven. It'll be fine. I might even be able to sleep in," he explained.

He helped me prepare another batch for the mixer after removing what was already in there. I watched as he floured the surface of the counter and threw the bread dough onto it with a loud smack. Coating his hands in the flour, he sprinkled a little more over the top and began his work. I watched with rapt fascination as his stocky forearms and strong hands molded and beat the bread dough again and again. He worked with a practiced precision that I'm certain had to take years to perfect. Over and over the dough they worked, shaping it and pressing it into different patters to add as much flour to it as he could. When he was finished, he rolled it into a perfect ball and placed it in a greased pan. Then, he covered it with a damp cloth and moved onto the next one.

I stared at his muscular arms and hands as they worked, licking my lips. Bread be damned, I wanted him to work me like that. My mouth went a little dry and my job was abandoned as I watched him effortlessly knead batch after batch.

"I like to do it the old fashioned way," he explained his voice cutting through the silence. The only sound was the dull whir of the mixer I was supposed to be loading with ingredients. That was long forgotten as I acquainted myself with Peeta's forearms. I was suddenly fighting the urge to lick the flour off of them. I shook my head and chastised myself for being such an idiot. I needed to make up my mind: stop lusting after him and jump him, or don't.

It was a fine line.

"Did you want to learn?" he asked brightly, brushing the hair out of his eyes.

"Um…what?" I stuttered.

"How to knead. You keep watching me do it…did you want to learn?"

Damn. I'd been caught.

"Um…sure," I said stupidly, brushing my hair back again. I wiped my hands on the apron before moving slowly to stand beside him. Peeta laughed and grabbed my hips and placed me squarely between the counter and him I was wedged snugly against the counter right in front of the current batch of bread dough. Heat was rolling off his body in waves, or so it seemed. The ovens behind us were still cooking something and it was warm in the bakery to begin with. I felt myself start to sweat as Peeta lightly sprinkled more flour along my hands.

"Now…coat your hands so that it doesn't stick…good…"

I blinked and tried to focus. Bread making. Yes. Bread making with a hot teacher I wanted to lick. This would end badly.

Peeta closed the gap between my back and his front as he stepped closely behind me. His hands found mine and he spoke with his lips next to my ear. I don't think he was as close to my body as I was imagining, but I felt like my senses were suddenly in overdrive.

"Let's get started."

I was a goner.

"Now just dive in. Like this," he explained, reaching around in front of me. His large hands moved easily as they began to knead the dough into quick, neat little shapes. I watched him do this for a few minutes, my mind struggling to work properly with him standing right behind me. "You try," he said quietly, his lips barely brushing the shell of my ear.

I tried not to visibly shudder with pleasure.

I swallowed roughly and tried to follow his lead, but it was a lot harder than he made it look. My hands were unpracticed and clumsy as I tried to mimic his moves and fell terribly short. He chuckled, the feeling reverberating against my back. I squeezed my eyes closed for a second and tried to remain composed. This wasn't supposed to be sexy – was it? He was teaching me how to make bread.

There was nothing sexy about bread.

Was there?

It is if he's making it.

"I'll help you," he said quietly, placing his hands on mine. Our fingers intertwined as he slowly plunged my hands along with his into the mound of dough. The warm, pliant mixture greeted my floured hands as Peeta pressed them against it. I could feel the warm, sinewy muscles in his glorious forearms flexing beneath the skin as they rubbed up against my own.

"Then flatten it….curve it around into a ball…now punch it down…" he coached softly. His hands were merely guiding mine like a horse would a sleigh; I had no control as we moved together as one. My mouth felt like sandpaper as I tried to control the pleasurable feeling that would shoot down my spine each time he spoke against my ear.

I was slipping.

I exhaled slowly as we worked, my hands stilling slightly. This wasn't going to work; I could feel the wetness between my thighs. I was turned on. Bread had turned me on.

Or maybe it was the baker.

Peeta leaned closer and I caught a whiff of his soap and almost moaned.

Yup.

Definitely the baker.

By then my hands had stopped moving completely.

So had his.

We both took a shaky breath.

"That um…looks good."

"Yeah," I agreed. We could have been mixing mud and rocks and I would have agreed with him at that point.

"Do you want to stop?" he asked quietly, his breath blowing against my ear. I could feel his chest muscles tense against my back, our hands still intertwined against the dough.

"No!" I said quickly.

Too quickly.

It was quiet for a moment as he exhaled a warm breath against my neck. I heard his lips part as he laughed sweetly, his throaty chuckle effectively ruining my panties. And damn this man had an effect on my panties, that much I knew.

"Are you talking about the bread?"

I gulped. "No."

"Good. Me either," he admitted in a low, husky voice.

Damn him.

The fucking man had me turned and ready to throw him on the counter just from kneading bread. I sighed shakily.

We remained there against the counter for what seemed like ages and only seconds at the same time. I felt his breath against the exposed side of my neck. It made me really glad I had worn my hair in a braid today. Slowly, glacially slowly – he lowered his lips to my exposed neck. I shuddered in response as his warm mouth left a long, lingering kiss against my neck.

Well fuck me.

His lips seemed to burn against my skin but I wasn't complaining. Between the smell of the bread and the stress of the day and the way his chest felt against my back I just wanted to lose myself in him. My head fell back against his shoulder and he took that as an invitation to kiss me again. He hummed against my neck as his lips dragged upwards, brushing lightly against my earlobe. His teeth lightly scraped against the sensitive skin and made my body tingle down to my fucking toes. I chewed my lip and felt my eyes flutter closed on their own accord. I could feel his hot, cutely nervous breath against my skin as he continued his work and that was fine with me. I didn't think I could keep on breathing if he stopped now.

But should I stop him?

No.

Even if I didn't remember being his wife, we were still dating. People who were dating made out in bakeries, right?

My knees quaked slightly and Peeta answered by pinning me closer to the counter with his hips. I felt the start of something very promising against my ass and it made me grin up at the ceiling as he continued kissing the tender spot behind my ear. Another excruciatingly wonderful jolt of pleasure shot up my spin and radiated out to my fingertips and toes as he worked. I definitely enjoyed that.

I should stop. We should stop. We should….no, let's not stop. No stopping, no….

My stupid brain seemed inconsequential at the moment, so I was gonna roll with it.

I took a deep breath and looked over my shoulder. My peripheral vision caught Peeta's eye and he gave me a tiny smile. "Hi."

I grinned. "Hi."

He dipped his head down and pressed his lips to mine in a searing kiss.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22: Butterflies

The smell of bread and yeast and Peeta filled my nose as I turned around. He wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me closer to bump his nose affectionately against mine before placing another soft kiss on my lips. I moved my mouth against his and didn't even notice that I had put my hand in bread dough as we resumed our kisses. His hips shifted away from mine as we both became painfully aware of the situation we were now in.

Alone, in the bakery at night, together, and completely turned on. I could feel the apex between my thighs growing damp with desire, and it didn't take a genius to realize Peeta was turned on as well. I swallowed in hopes that I could dispel the heady, needy feeling that had suddenly overcome my brain. No avail.

"I'm sorry," he whispered suddenly. His eyes met mine and his face cracked with a new smile. "No…that's a lie," he said in the same sentence, "I'm not sorry at all."

I soon had a grin that mirrored his. "I'm not either. We're terrible. Not sorry for making out in your kitchen."

My eyes locked to his, and I knew from just looking at him that he really wasn't sorry either – not that we had to be. We weren't doing anything wrong. Fast yes, but wrong? No. My heart seemed to pause and falter in my chest as he stared at me, practically nose to nose and out of focus. Time seemed to slow as Peeta's hands dropped from my back, down to lightly grip my waist. I inhaled sharply at the contact; firm but strong. Just like Peeta. The only sound was the long forgotten mixer and our ragged breaths as we fought the inevitable.

"I'm not sorry at all," I repeated. Leaning forward, his lips met mine in the middle. I pressed my mouth to his again and again, reveling in the feeling of his lips against mine. His tongue moved forward and stroked mine again, egging me on shamelessly. A sigh left my lips as I fought to think coherently. I could see how I might easily get carried away with someone like Peeta.

My arms went around his neck to ensure he didn't leave or pull away. Instead, his grip on my hips tightened and his groin came in contact with my abdomen. I could feel him against me as we kissed; hard and thick and ready. Our mouths battled playfully as we kissed, one giving and the other taking before switching off.

Peeta's hips moved forward blindly, seeking friction against the front of my jeans. His eyes flew open suddenly as I pushed back, granting it to him. He pulled away slowly, his lips still slick and red from our heated kissing. I gave him a 'what the hell' look and sighed in frustration.

"Not in the bakery," he said simply, shaking his head. "We…"

He trailed off, his words failing him for the first time ever as I watched him. I hadn't seen Peeta so speechless – ever.

"Is something wrong?" I asked. The confidence he had given me was slowly being peeled away as I waited for him to speak.

He shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong. I just…this is….like our first time again. I can't….it has to be right."

I brought my hand up to my forehead and rubbed it gingerly, nodding my head. As frustrated as my body was, I knew he was right. Peeta was a romantic. It wasn't out of character for him to not want our 'second' first time to be slammed up against the counter in the back of his bakery.

"I…I know. You're right. We should stop."

He gave me a charming little shrug. "I promise to make it up to you…soon," he said. "We should get you home. Still have that headache?"

I gave him a coy smile and shook my head. 'No', I mouthed. I hoped 'soon' was really soon.

There was a bounce in Peeta's step for a few days after that. He didn't bring up our hot little impromptu make out session in his bakery once, but I could tell he had thought about it on more than one occasion. He would give me sappy little smiles that clearly told me what he was thinking, yet he was too much of a gentleman to say anything about it.

I didn't bring it up either, but that certainly didn't mean I didn't think about it.

In the shower.

In the bed.

At night, alone.

I was starting to sleep rather well, actually. I was pretty sure I had bitten almost clear through my lip on several occasions to keep from moaning out loud as I thought about the kitchen incident, but that was alright. Shit, I had even named it 'The Kitchen Incident'.

After said incident, things were back to the nervous, flirty, tension filled feeling before my outburst. I decided yelling at Peeta was worse than stepping on a kitten. I felt terrible for my sudden burst of frustration in the kitchen for days now. Even though we had kissed and made up in more ways than one I still felt the need to make it up to him.

It was a Saturday afternoon, just a few days after my visit with my mother. Peeta had worked that morning in the bakery before taking me to a late lunch at a little 'build your own' pizzeria down the street from us. The entire time he had rambled on about bread and crust and something about baking, I had been silently wondering where we stood. I knew we were silently tip-toeing around the whole 'married' issue for now. I guess we were dating? Was he my boyfriend? I wasn't sure.

Peeta had spent most of the afternoon sketching at his art table, and now he had retreated to the couch with his feet propped up on the coffee table. He wore a soft looking grey Henley and flannel pants, his white socked feet sticking up and jiggling happily as he watched a game on the television. I plopped down on the couch next to him and gave him a smile as he looked over at me in surprise.

"Whatcha doin?"

His blue eyes flashed as I rested my leg against his. This was the closest we'd been since the bakery a few days ago and he knew it. Peeta was waiting for me to initiate things now; I could tell he wanted this to be on my terms.

"Watching a game."

I laughed and rolled my eyes. "I see that. Um…"

"Yes?" he asked me with smiling eyes. His blonde hair was pressed down in his eyes due to the baseball cap he had worn during lunch, and it hung adorably across his forehead. Reaching over, I brushed it out of his eyes and sighed as I searched his eyes with mine. I wanted control of my life again, and I only knew one way to do that: take matters into my own hands.

"I like you."

A small, slow smile graced his lips as he gave me a pointed look. "I like you too."

I nodded sheepishly, twisting the gold, woven band on my ring finger. I glanced down at Peeta's left hand and saw his wedding band glinting in the light of the television. Instead of making me nervous like it used to, the sight of it gave me butterflies. The happy kind. But I needed to know where we stood if we were on this 'doing things right' path.

"I know we're…still technically married, but, for now….can you just be my boyfriend? I mean…I like you, and….I like…this…thing that were doing. So can we be…like…"

Peeta's eyebrows rose up as I rambled, watching me stutter and stammer my way through this. My lack of a way with words was amusing the wordy bastard and I knew it. He was a cute wordy bastard though.

"I think you should…like, be my boyfriend. And I should be your girlfriend, and…and we can just…."

Peeta snorted. "What, like live together?"

I gave his shoulder a playful shove. "You know what I mean."

"Do I now?" he flirted shamelessly. He blinked his baby blues and gave me a hopeful look.

"Stop being cute," I chided him. "It's not cute. How did this all…happen the first time?" I wondered.

He shrugged. "Actually, a lot like that if you must know. You call the shots, Everdeen – always have. I'm just along for the ride."

"How so?"

He shook his head and grinned. "Are you sure you didn't bump your head again? Because you're acting like…well, you."

His words made me smile brightly. "I…I am?"

"Yup," he said confidently. "After our first date, you….didn't take much convincing after that."

"Oh?"

Peeta grinned and rubbed his stubbly cheeks for a second before continuing, his eyes gleaming with a far-off look. "You uh…came into the bakery and saw some girl trying to flirt with me. I guess it pissed you off so you walked around the counter and pinned me against it and just…attacked me in front of her."

I frowned. "That doesn't sound like me."

"It wasn't. I knew something was up. You gave her this look…this…sexy crazy possessive look," he chuckled. "And introduced yourself as my girlfriend. Poor girl probably still doesn't know what hit her. You just breezed in and claimed me and….it was the best experience…well, second best experience of my life."

"What was the first?" I asked without thinking.

Peeta suddenly couldn't look at me. "Oh, um…another…thing."

I nodded bashfully. "I think I get what you mean."

He coughed and laughed at the same time, shaking his head. "I asked you, 'So I'm your boyfriend now?' and you just gave me this look like…'no shit'."

"Okay, that sounds like me."

"Yeah, and from then on we just…were. I think that was after a few dates. You just knew that I belonged to you I guess."

Now it was my turn to smile. "Fine. So you're my boyfriend."

Peeta turned back to the TV as his face turned a little red. "Oh Katniss."

"What?"

He shook his head and scratched his hand through his hair. "I should have seen this coming. You've always been a bit of a tornado, you know that?"

I pretended to pout. "I can't expect you to just take charge now, can I?" I teased. Without saying another word, I pushed him down onto a couch in a lounging position so that I could arrange myself between him and the back of the couch. He gave me a surprised little laugh as I wedged my way down and rested my head on his shoulder.

"Boyfriends let girlfriends lounge on them," I explained. He was waiting for me to initiate affection and that's exactly what I was going to do. His hand fell on my shoulder and rubbed a few little circles.

"I can do that," he said proudly, his soft voice floating into my ear. It made me want to shiver. If Peeta was offering, then I was definitely taking. I pressed my nose against his neck like I did that morning and sighed against the fabric of his soft t-shirt. He turned his head back to the game as I lay like a sardine next to him. It was squished and tight but felt amazing. We spent the afternoon curled together, basking in our newfound comfort zone. There was nothing quite like cuddling with someone for the first time. I eventually drifted off, my head rising and falling with his steady breathing. His soft snores woke me a few hours later. It was dark out, and the game had moved to some crappy TBS movie. I lifted my head and frowned to see a light puddle of drool on the front of his t-shirt where my face had been. Peeta opened his eyes and gave me a sleepy smile as he stroked my hair.

"Nice nap?"

I gave him a sheepish, sleepy grin. "I might have drooled on your shirt."

He lifted up the material and gave a little chortle. "Wouldn't be the first time babe."

I laughed and leaned up to kiss him without thinking. I froze and made a startled noise as I realized what I had done. He held his hand to the back of my head and pressed it in for another kiss. And another. And another.

I broke away and gave him a knowing smile. He returned it. Our lips met again, testing and teasing each other. He slipped his tongue past my teeth and stroked the mine with a throaty moan. I shifted on the couch and let him move to settle welcomly between my legs. Peeta sucked on my lower lip and scraped it lightly with my teeth, making an excited spark move all the way down to the juncture between my thighs. Crap, why did everything he did seem to have an effect on my vagina?

Because he's Peeta, that's why.

Oh. Right.

I smirked to myself and let our second make out session in less than twenty four hours continue. Could you really blame me? His weight was settled on top of me and he was warm and thick and perfect and smelled like a sugar cookie. Of course I wanted him.

A nagging through plagued me as we kissed, slowly squirming to the front of my mind. I wanted Peeta – badly. But could I deal with what would come next? I was getting to know him sure. But were we ready for that next step? My thoughts grew hazy and hard to hold onto as he slowly moved his lips down to my neck.

Oh, euphoria.

I sucked in a ragged breath as I felt his tongue reach out and swipe at my collar bone. I shuddered as I felt the promise of his erection against the inside of my thigh. I was wearing yoga pants and he was wearing flannel. Talk about handy! He was so close…

I shifted and let our arousals touch. Even through clothes I could feel the heat of him as we moved and dry humped each other on the couch. I felt like a teenager again but it felt glorious as we moved together, rubbing and touching and exploring. His hands slid down the front of my shirt and over my breasts, igniting that familiar electric feeling. I wanted him so much and so suddenly that it was sobering.

We couldn't do this yet – we owed it to ourselves to grow back together first.

"Peeta," I gasped, exhaling sharply. He lifted his head and looked up at me through a mess of blonde curls.

"Yeah?"

I chewed my lip for a second. "We should…stop."

He paused taking in what I had said. He nodded slowly, but didn't look as disappointed as I thought he would be. "Alright," he said gently, sitting up. He lifted himself back into a sitting position between my legs, his hands trying to pull his shirt over the evident tent in his flannel shirt. I snuck a peek; it was decent sized. He caught me looking and tried to sheepishly push it down.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I just…"

"Katniss," he reached over to put his hand on my back. "We don't have to…go that far. I just want to be near you."

I stared at him, looking hopefully over at me with his bright eyes with the TV reflecting off of them. I knew he was being honest, and I believed him. I scooted closer to him and rested my head on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around me and held me close. "I would wait forever for you. I hope you know that."

His words melted me.

We were home a few days later when there was a knock at the door. Peeta glanced through the peephole and grinned, shaking his head before flinging the door open. "Couldn't stay away, eh old man?"

I watched from the couch as a man built like Peeta embraced him tightly, thumping him on the back for good measure. He turned around expectantly, looking around the apartment. Peeta nodded in my direction and his gaze met mine. I awkwardly stood up and froze.

It was like seeing Peeta, only aged about twenty five years. In front of me was a stocky yet well-built man that was only slightly taller than Peeta. His blond hair was cut closer to his head than Peeta's was, and I could tell he was at least fifty something by the dusting of gray hair on his temples and the lines around his mouth and eyes.

We stared at each other for a second, an expectant, mirroring smile on each of their faces. A slight sense of panic began to rise in my chest, tightening and twisting as this man waited to see if I recognized him or not.

I didn't.

He was obviously related to Peeta…his father maybe?

Peeta could sense my slight apprehension and stepped around the couch to stand next to me. "Katniss, this is my dad. Dad…Katniss."

I held out a shaky hand towards Mr. Mellark, expecting him to take it. He did, but only to use to yank me closer so that he could envelop me in a huge bear hug. I squeaked in surprise as the strong man squeezed me tightly as if we did this every day. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw Peeta give me a slight wince.

"Katniss…Katniss," he muttered. He released me, shaking his head as a big grin covered his pale face. "You're back."

I exhaled and tried to get my stomach to stop doing nervous flips. "Yes, I am. Hi."

"Dad, she….come on," Peeta urged politely, pulling his father back. Mr. Mellark nodded in understanding and grinned at me again.

"It's nice to…see you," I stuttered, not sure what else to say. "Peeta talks about you all the time."

He nodded in understanding. "I bet he does. He's the favorite. Just kidding!" he laughed heartily. "Well I did drop by unannounced, but I did bring treats!" he exclaimed, tossing a brown bag at Peeta. He glanced inside and nodded, walking to the kitchen to prepare whatever it was. Mr. Mellark turned to me, his hand on my shoulder giving a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm glad you're back Katniss. Old Peet wasn't the same without you around, you know that?"

I managed a weak smile. "I…can only imagine. I'm…sorry if this is weird. I'm getting used to it by now, but sometimes people...have a hard time with it."

"You just…be you. Be you and get better, and give Old Peet here hell."

"Dad!" Peeta snapped from the kitchen. He gave his father a pleading look and Mr. Mellark answered by thumping me on the shoulder.

"It's alright. I live to tease my baby boy."

"In my twenties, dad," Peeta muttered from his place at the counter. I laughed and followed Mr. Mellark to the kitchen to see what he had brought for us to eat. He gave me a bright smile that made his blue eyes twinkle a lot like Peeta's did when he was truly happy.

I think I liked him.

Slowly but surely, my life started to fall back into place. I occasionally helped Peeta in the bakery the rest of the weekend, pitching in here and there. I made friends with his employees, Rue and Thresh, helping them out at the register when time allowed. Rue was teaching me the names of all the specialty breads, pastries and muffins and how to ring them up, As the Holidays approached I knew Peeta appreciated the help. Each day a steady line of customers came and went, each one stepping a little lighter as they filtered into the warm, sweet smelling bakery.

As much fun as the bakery was though, I was yearning to do something to actually earn money. Peeta had let the country club I taught archery at know about my accident, so I was okay until spring there. But I wanted to contribute more than just my help, as he had been supporting me for weeks now. So, when I ran into Haymitch while taking out the trash on a Tuesday morning I stopped him.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, tossing the last bag into the dumpster.

He nodded at me as he walked to his car. "Mellark," he greeted. "Got any of them cinnamon crunch bagels?"

I shrugged. "We make them every day, you should know that," I joked.

He raised an eyebrow at me as he unlocked his car door. I walked over, rubbing my hands together awkwardly.

"I would like to um…get back to work," I admitted. "If you need me."

He nodded, pausing behind the open door. "I need you, yeah. But are you uh good in the…?" he trailed off, pointing to his head.

I huffed and couldn't control my eyes as they rolled in annoyance. "Yes, I'm fine in the head. I have temporary amnesia; I didn't turn into a complete idiot."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you are alright after all," he chuckled. "But I don't want ya if you're not ready."

"I'm fine."

"Been takin care of that boy?" he asked, pointing to the bakery.

I nodded and felt myself blush slightly. He gave me a satisfied bob of his head.

"Good. Well...People like to get away from their families come the Holidays, so yeah I can use a good drink slinger."

I smiled wryly. "Well, not sure how good I'd be but…I'd work hard. I want to earn some money, so…I'd work whatever you could give me as far as shifts go."

He smiled, brushing his shaggy blond hair away from his eyes. "That'd be fine. Show up Friday night, round seven."

"O-okay," I said slowly. "But I don't remember how to waitress really."

He cleared his throat and gave me a strange look. "You'd be surprised what your hands will remember that your head can't. See you Friday," he grunted before climbing into his car. He slammed the door and drove out of the back alley, leaving me standing beside the dumpsters shivering. The back door to the bakery swung open and Peeta hurried outside.

"What are you doing?" he asked, rubbing his hands together. "Freezin' out here."

He grabbed my icy hands and rubbed them between his own, his pale cheeks quickly going a little blue in the frigid morning air.

"Taking the trash out, I saw Haymitch. I'm gonna start working again I think."

Peeta raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Really? That's great. Are you sure you're ready?"

His concern for my well-being overrode his happiness that I could tell. I could see the tiny lines around his eyes crinkle with worry as he stood in the alley with his warm hands around mine.

Instead of thinking, I kissed him. It was just a short, sweet, innocent little kiss, but it made his worry melt away.

"I'm sure. I need to do it."

Peeta nodded, giving me a reassuring smile. "Then do it."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23: Giving Thanks

The next day, Peeta took the afternoon off of work to spend with me. He came running back up the apartment steps, making me smile as I listened to his heavy frame clumsily take the stairs. He burst through the door with a triumphant smile and a bag from the bakery.

"So what are we doing free afternoon?"

"Something special. I want to take you somewhere. Get your coat, come on!" he laughed impatiently. He was like a little kid sometimes, but I knew that was part of why I was falling back in love with him.

"I hope your business doesn't go under from you spending all of your free time with me," I teased, slipping into my coat.

He shook his head. "I deserve a break…I'm the boss!"

"You just got done with work, did you want to sit down a minute?" I teased. Peeta gave me an impatient look before rolling his blue eyes.

I paused at the door, pulling on his hand. Money had been at front of my mind ever since my talk with Haymitch. I knew going back to work would certainly ease the burden on Peeta, but I wanted to be sure. We were married so didn't that entitle me to know how we were doing financially? Besides, my mother had always told me to never be a mooch. Everyone hates a mooch, and wasn't that what I was doing?

"Speaking of money, um-"

"Katniss," he said softly. "We're fine. We're careful with money, okay? And the bakery is doing really well. We live within our means so don't worry."

"Well…yeah but ever since I had my accident all I've done is kinda…mooch off of you."

Peeta shook his head. "It's called taking care of someone. I'm supposed to take care of you, it's not being a mooch."

"But I don't like not earning my keep, Peeta. That's not who I am…or was," I relented.

"I don't want you to get overwhelmed with everything and try too hard to push yourself back into working."

"That's just it; I'm not. I want to go back to work and…feel like I'm accomplishing something."

Peeta gave me a somewhat petulant look as he wrapped a scarf around his neck. "You help me."

"I know I do," I said. "But I want to do more than just helping in the bakery. I want a paycheck in my name again. I want to pay half of the bills."

Peeta sighed as he slipped on his gloves. "I think you should do whatever makes you happy."

I could tell he didn't want me to go back to work, but his words said otherwise. I grinned and leaned over to peck him on the cheek. "I knew you'd understand.

He just smiled softly and shook his head at me as we finished bundling up. It was just two days before Thanksgiving and the temperatures had dropped significantly already. As I made coffee that morning I had admired the frosty designs on the glass in the kitchen. Peeta followed me down the steps of our apartment to the street.

"This way," he said softly, grabbing my hand. I felt a little tingle run up my arm at the contact, even through the gloves. He must have noticed it too the way he smiled softly at me. We walked hand in hand, my mittened hand tucked into his gloved one all the way to the park.

"What's in the bag?" I asked curiously, eying the 'Mellark Bakery' bag in his hands.

He shook his head with that child-like grin. "Stuff and things."

I rolled my eyes. "Great," I laughed. We walked to the edge of the street, cutting through an alley and down another sidewalk. The buildings grew a little sparse as we neared a small park.

Peeta looked at me expectantly to see what my reaction would be.

"I don't know this place," I said, pausing slightly. My eyes scanned the expanse of the frosty park, taking it in. It was beautiful really; the afternoon sun wasn't quite warm enough to melt the shimmering layer of frost that clung to every tree leaf and blade of grass. Tucked into one corner was a small body of water, a gazebo, and playground equipment. Benches were scattered around the area, most of them overlooking the water. The small pond was practically frozen solid, save for a few spots where the ice had been broken for a small cluster of ducks.

"Aw," I laughed, watching as they bobbed in the tiny patch of water. Peeta tossed me a boyish grin and opened the bag, making the ducks come flapping clumsily out of the water with renewed effort.

"Do you like ducks?"

I nodded and gave him a little shrug. "I like to eat them."

He snickered as he tore off a few small pieces and chucked them at the fat, awkward mallard leading the group. They quacked with excitement as they shuffled up within a few feet of us. There were eight of them; four perfectly matched pairs. They were fluffed up from the chilly air around us, but they also a little rounder than most ducks I had seen when hunting with my dad. I smiled at the memory, wishing I had more like that.

"I feed the sometimes in the winter. My dad used to bring me down here, and now sometimes I drag you with me," he explained. "I feel sorry for them."

I could hardly contain my snort of amusement. "Fat little things. I bet they taste good."

"Hey now," he laughed, "These are friends. Besides, they have enough trouble finding food in the winter so I…come down here sometimes to feed them."

I watched as he tore off another big chunk of bread from the loaf in the bag and tossed it to the ground. I rolled my eyes as a duck stepped on my foot to get it.

"So much for being wild animals, huh guys?" I asked the ducks. They quacked and scarfed down the bread at our feet without paying attention. "They're so tame!"

"I told you I feed them a lot!" he laughed. "Don't you believe me?"

"You? Feeding helpless ducks? Yeah, I buy it," I said. "It is cold I guess. I suppose I do feel a little sorry for them."

"Right, well…"

"So what do we do for Christmas?" I asked.

Peeta looked over at me and tossed another piece to the ground. "Well, last year we had a nice dinner with some of our friends Christmas Eve, and…then we opened a bottle of cheap champagne," he grinned, his cheeks suddenly growing pink. He was suddenly looking everywhere but at me, and I knew something was up.

"And why are you acting so goofy now?" I teased. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he insisted, shaking his blond head. Frowning, I reached into the bag and tore off a piece of the fluffy bread. The reluctant duck that accepted it from my hand eyed me wearily, unsure if I was going to attack. I must have passed his test though, for he returned for several more pieces. The tips of Peeta's ears are still a little red when I look at him again.

"What?" I asked, playfully shoving him.

He shrugs casually and gives me another little smile. "Nothing."

I felt a few butterflies flopping around in my stomach. "Did we do something…festive?" I joked.

Peeta blushed again. "You might say that."

I nodded and took another piece of bread. Obviously last year we had gotten drunk and done something dirty in celebration of the season. I smirked to myself and hoped that memory would return to me someday.

After we finished feeding the ducks, Peeta walked me to the other end of the park that was near a small line of shops. "Wait here," he said, ducking into one of them.

I raised my eyebrows but said nothing. He emerged a few minutes later with two disposable cups and a smile on his face. "For you," he explained, handing one to me. One sniff from the open lid made my day.

"Hot chocolate!"

"The best. I've been trying to figure out what they put in it to make it so good for ages. You always swore it was hazelnut, but I'm not sure."

I sipped my drink and watched it steam against the chilly late afternoon air. "Either way it's amazing," I laughed. We walked back to the park and I let him lead me to a small bench on a hill. It was freezing out as the sun set, but it was too beautiful to pass up. I watched our breath blow out in small, white clouds as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The bare trees seemed to cling to the last traces of light as we sipped our hot chocolate and watched it.

"This was nice," I finally said, breaking the comfortable silence. "Thank you for bringing me here." I leaned into his side, his puffy coat scraping lightly against mine. His blonde curls were poking out from the black hat he wore, making him look adorable.

"I thought you would like it," he said quietly, his eyes flicking down to my lips. My heart started to beat a little faster as I leaned forward, closing the distance between us. His lips formed a smile against mine as I kissed them, sealing my gratitude. His lips tasted sweet as I slid my tongue through them, meeting him in the middle. We tasted each other and laughed against each other's mouths as we figured out that we probably both tasted like hot chocolate. I felt his gloved hand touch my cheek, pulling me closer as he opened his mouth wider and deepened the kiss.

I broke away and grinned. "Park," I laughed.

He blinked a few times, his eyes still transfixed on my mouth. "Right," he agreed. His eyes moved up to mine and he gave me an endearing smile as he put his arm around my shoulders. I let my head fall against the crook of his neck, and together we watched the sun disappear.

We left the park soon after, hurrying back to the apartment as the temperatures continued to drop. Peeta ditched one of his gloves and pulled my hand into one of his oversized pockets to link it with his. Even with the winter wind whipping at my face, I couldn't help but smile. I laughed as he chased me up the stairs to our apartment, my hoarse laughter echoing in the stairwell. It stopped, however, when I saw who was waiting outside our front door.

"Prim," I said softly. Peeta's hand gripped mine as he spied my sister waiting for us. I glanced at him in question but he looked as dumbstruck as I felt.

"Oh…are you in the middle of…something?" she asked awkwardly.

I shook my head. "No, come in."

Peeta unlocked the front door and we went inside. Prim took off her coat, signaling her intent to stay for a minute. I looked at Peeta and he got the message.

"I'm…gonna go make some tea. Prim, do you like peppermint?"

"Yes, please. Thank you," she replied politely. I raised an eyebrow at her but didn't say anything as we sat down at the dining room table to speak.

"How long were you waiting outside our house?" I asked bluntly. Peeta dropped something in the kitchen, clanging loudly. I ignored it and waited for her answer.

"A few…minutes," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter. Look, I….I didn't mean to interrupt."

"We were just at the park," I shrugged. "Why are you here?"

She avoided my gaze, tucking her hair behind her ears like she did when she was little and looking around the loft with wide eyes. "This is nice."

My sigh of frustration was louder than I intended. "Yeah, it's…really nice, actually. What did you think it would look like?" I asked sharply.

Prim gave me a hurt look. "I didn't come here to fight, Katniss. The opposite actually. I'm sorry for what I said the other day."

"Oh."

"And…I didn't mean to come off as…cruel," she said. "I should have believed you when you told me you were happy here."

I gaped at her, completely thrown off guard. My sister had come to apologize.

"Well…say something."

I swallowed roughly, shaking my head as her words sunk in. I could tell she was sorry by the look in her eyes; it was the same look she had as a kid when she had done something wrong. It hadn't changed much over the years.

"You were downright vile, Prim. You have been ever since I woke up in the hospital. You let a few dollars in your pockets change you and I think it's sick," I spat.

Peeta cleared his throat from the kitchen as he placed the kettle on the stove. I tossed him a 'shut up' look and continued. "You changed, and not in a good way. You act like all that matters is money. I know we were poor, but…that's not an excuse to act like a jerk about things."

"You're completely right," she chimed quickly. "I have changed, and it's not for the better."

I gave her a skeptical look. "What's the real reason you're here?"

Her shoulders slumped. "I don't want to fight with you anymore, Katniss. When Gale told me about the accident and that you couldn't remember anything, well…a selfish part of me was glad. I felt like I had a chance to start over with my sister and make up for lost time and I just…I ruined it didn't I?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and shook my head. "No, you didn't ruin it. I just…was frustrated too," I admitted.

Prim picked at her perfectly polished nails. "I was too. You were different, just…not in the way I thought you would be. I'm sorry I tried to force this on you. I can see that you're happy," she added quietly. Her eyes darted over to the kitchen where Peeta was fixing our tea.

"I am happy."

"He's taking care of you?" she asked.

"Why would you even ask that?"

"Because I'm your sister."

"So…Prim, start acting like it."

She gave me another hurt look before I could continue. "He's amazing, Prim. I still don't remember anything, and he's…okay with it. It hurts him sometimes, but…he's letting me learn to love him for a second time," I admitted quietly so that Peeta couldn't hear. "Not remembering him doesn't change anything."

"But Gale-"

"-No, Prim. Never Gale. We were wrong, and I still don't remember all the reasons why but I can feel it. Peeta is…good for me. Even if…things were different, it'd still be him. If I learned anything from this it's that I belong with him. That's not going to change, no matter what I can or can't remember," I said softly. I watched Peeta as he walked over to the table, dropping off three mugs.

Peeta sat down next to me, his chair squeaking against the wood floor as he pulled it out and sat down. Prim shifted uncomfortably in her chair across from him and slowly looked up to study him. He pushed a cup of tea her way, offering a lopsided smile that seemed to melt her frosty exterior slightly.

"How is your leg?" she asked finally, her voice bordering on pleasant.

"Almost completely healed, actually. Doctor says I didn't tear any ligaments that night, so I should heal naturally without surgery."

"That's very good," she said. I watched as her shoulders slumped even more and her strong tone grew warbly and weak. "Peeta, I haven't been entirely fair to you and I'm sorry for that. Can you ever forgive me for being so cold?"

Peeta leaned forward and placed his hand on hers. "Of course I can, Prim. There's nothing to forgive."

"Not true," I muttered under my breath. Peeta glanced at me quickly but then looked at Prim.

"I can forgive you as long as you make an effort with Katniss."

"What do you-"

Peeta gave her a rare stern look. "You know what I mean, Prim. She's not the same person you knew back then, and you need to accept it."

Prim shifted again and nodded. "I will. I just…I just want my sister back. I had her for a bit and I was just so…"

"Horrible? Changed? Obsessed with money?" I filled in for her.

"Katniss," Peeta hissed. "She's trying. You do the same."

I rolled my eyes as Peeta continued to play therapist, but ultimately let him continue. This was the most Prim and I had spoken without yelling since I'd left the Hawthorne house two weeks ago.

"I came to ask you to come back, but…I can see that you're happy. You look happy, anyway," she added stiffly.

"I am, Prim. Please believe me when I say that."

She nodded. "I do, now that I've seen…you. And you," she added to Peeta. "I'm sorry for everything."

I swallowed roughly and tried my best to say what Peeta would want me to say. He always said and did the right things, or so it seemed.

"I'm sorry too. Look…can we start over?"

Prim smiled. "I'd like that."

X0x0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

"You're sure about this?" I asked, shivering slightly. Peeta placed his warm, gloved hands on my shoulders and rubbed them firmly to heat them up.

"Positive. It's the holidays. You should be with your family."

I glanced up at the well-lit front of the Antebellum style mansion and felt like I was already drowning. But if Peeta was by my side, I knew it would be alright.

Prim and I had started over the other night, much to Peeta's delight. We had talked over peppermint tea for hours after that, and I did feel better about things. She had invited the two of us to Thanksgiving dinner, and now here we were. Peeta leaned forward to press the bell. It swung open to reveal a beaming Cora.

"Mr. Peeta," she whispered happily, pulling him inside. I followed slowly, watching as Peeta pulled Rue's mother into a tight hug. "You keepin that little girl of mine in line?"

Peeta chuckled. "That I am, that I am."

She looked over at me and took my hand in hers. "You look better than the last time," she whispered. I smiled in response.

"I'm better. Prim and I talked, so…"

She had seen me storm out that day, slamming the front door behind me after my fight with Prim. She nodded in understanding before motioning for us to follow her. We were ushered into the large dining room where Prim was already waiting. She was up on her tip toes straightening Rory's tie when we walked in. Rory leaned away in protest in a childlike manner, his dark features furrowed in annoyance at her actions. She whirled around as soon as she heard us and smiled politely.

"Glad you came," she said brightly, rushing over. "Do you want champagne?"

"For Thanksgiving?"

Prim shrugged. "Why not? We can celebrate being here, all together."

Peeta and I looked at each other in question before another voice broke the awkward silence.

"And what better a reason to celebrate?" Gale asked, striding purposefully into the room. I tensed slightly next to Peeta, my eyes following him as he walked over to the bar on the other side of the table. He grabbed a glass, carelessly tossing a few ice cubs into it before snatching up the decanter in front of him.

Peeta grabbed my hand, making me exhale the breath I didn't know I'd been holding. This was the first time I had seen Gale since he had interrupted our date night, so I was a little shaken. Part of me still wanted to punch him in the jaw for that. My childish words from that were still ringing in my head. I knew that type of behavior wouldn't be acceptable twice.

"Although Peeta probably prefers a man's drink," he added, pulling out another glass. He held it up and raised an eyebrow at Peeta, who nodded.

"Just one. I'm driving," he said politely, flashing Gale a sincere smile. Gale paused for a moment, clearly surprised in Peeta's answer. Nevertheless, he poured him a glass of what I'm sure was expensive scotch and walked over to us.

"To family," he said gruffly, clinking his glass with Peeta's. I accepted the flute of champagne from Prim and clinked my glass with hers. Peeta turned to me, touching his glass to mine.

"To family," he echoed, his blue eyes burning into mine for a split second. I looked away and took a sip of my drink. I was going to need it.

For dinner, we were joined by Cora, my mother, and Mrs. Hawthorne. She graciously welcomed us as we sat down at the dinner table, her eyes flitting to the place where Peeta sat beside me. She caught me watching her and offered me a terse smile.

"I'm so glad you decided to come," she said instead.

"Thank you for having us," Peeta answered brightly, folding his napkin onto his lap. I followed his lead, still a little rattled to be back at the Hawthorne dinner table after everything that had happened. I glanced up and found Gale watching me closely. Food was passed around and it was a mouthwatering display, but I couldn't focus with Gale sitting across from me. It was unnerving.

"So what did little Primmy said to get you to join us?" Gale asked finally.

"Gale," Hazelle chided.

"No, it's fine. We just cleared the air and decided to be adults about it."

Gale couldn't contain his snort.

Fine then. Two could play that came.

"Where's your dad?" I asked.

Hazelle nearly choked on her champagne as the words left my mouth. Satisfaction simmered through me as I watched Gale's jaw tighten slightly.

"Working."

"On thanksgiving?" I pushed.

He shook his head a little before taking another mouthful of scotch. "Takes a lot of time and commitment to own one of the top companies on this side of the country, Katniss."

Beside me, Peeta shifted uncomfortably. I looked at him in question and saw his cheeks redden slightly. His jaw tightened for a second before going back to normal.

Gale continued, "Business doesn't stop, not even on the holidays. My father has what it takes. He was surprised I was even here tonight. He thought I should be working. I can't say I disagree. He's teaching me what it means to be successful."

Peeta's jaw clenched again in the corner of my peripheral vision.

"Right," I muttered. "Well I'm sorry he couldn't be here."

Gale's mother looked up in surprise. "That's very nice of you to say," she said sincerely, her grey eyes wide. I had forgotten how much Hazelle clung to any form of kindness; it was rare she got it. Gale's father was even shorter tempered than Gale was. I had a feeling Hazelle didn't receive too many kind words these days.

"You're welcome," I mumbled, picking at the turkey on my plate. We made small talk about the wedding with Prim and Rory – well, Peeta did anyway, and went so far as to compliment the meal to Hazelle. She took credit, even though I'm sure the most work she did the entire day was curling her hair and pouring her own drink. But either way, she smiled and thanked him. Gale was silent, picking at his food at occasionally taking a sip of his drink. We met eyes across the table and he remained stone faced.

I knew my comment in the restaurant had taken it too far and he wanted me to apologize first. That was just our relationship. He got mad, we wouldn't speak for a few days and then finally I would cave and coax him into talking again.

But that was then and this was now. If he wanted to be a baby about things, then fine.

I reached for Peeta's hand beneath the table and gave it a squeeze. He looked over at me and gave me a tight smile.

After dinner, I pecked my mother on the cheek. "Happy Thanksgiving mom," I offered. Cora smiled warmly at me and thanked me for coming. Gale retreated to his study, and Prim followed Rory out of the room like a lost puppy. I thanked Hazelle for having us and loaded into the truck with Peeta. By the time we got home, I was exhausted and it wasn't from the turkey.

"Prim seemed happy we came," he said finally, plopping down on the couch. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and the thin wife beater he wore under it let me see the broad planes of his chest. I kicked off my boots and joined him on the couch after grabbing two bottles of beer from the fridge. After dinner, Prim had asked me to be a bridesmaid in her small, new year's eve wedding in a few weeks. I had agreed, hugging her and promising to wear whatever dress she picked for me.

"I think she was too. Um…thank you Peeta."

"For?"

"For making me talk to her. I don't really want to be in her wedding, but…I think it's a step in the right direction either way."

"You don't want her to marry Rory?"

I shrugged. "I want her to be happy. If following him around like a little lost puppy makes her happy, then…"

"You're being a good sister," he insisted, accepting the beer. "You just needed a push in the right direction." He took a sip and I couldn't help but watch his lips as he licked them clean.

Peeta didn't have to help me back to Prim. In fact, any sane husband would have wanted me to go screaming away from the Hawthorne's and the entire family. And yet Peeta had urged me back to my mom and sister, spending the holiday with them instead of his family. I owed him big for this one.

"And you're being a good….husband slash boyfriend," I said quietly, giggling at the last part. Peeta chuckled.

"I think that's in my job description, yeah."

"No," I laughed, "It's really not. But you are, regardless. So thank you Peeta."

He lifted his eyes to mine and gave me a tiny smile. "You don't have to thank me, but…you're welcome anyway. I'm just happy to see all of the pieces falling back into place for you."


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24: Winter Wonderland

Being with my family on Thanksgiving was a little…unsettling.

I was glad I had gone and glad that things were improving with my sister, but I felt like I had just gotten a glimpse of what my family holidays would be like from now on. Trudging to the Hawthorne mansion for stiff dinners, awkward hugs, and watching my sister fawn over her idiot fiancé while I avoided Gale's sulky looks. But with Prim marrying into their family and my mother living there, I just didn't see any other way. As much as I hated it, it looked like the Hawthorne's were intertwined in my life whether I wanted it that way or not.

"You want a beer?" Peeta asked when we got home.

I shook my head. "Nah…."

I felt him watching me as I shrugged out of my coat and somberly trudged to the sofa.

Peeta, sensing my tense mood, pulled me onto the plush couch and pulled me down with him. I went willingly, curling against him. Peeta flipped on the TV, seeming to know that I wasn't ready to talk yet. I remained quiet for a few hours as we watched a few bad Christmas movies. I was lounging against him again, sardined between the back of the couch and Peeta's side, neither of us moving for long periods of time. My nose was against the soft material of his Henley shirt, my free hand playing with the buttons. I will say Peeta was nice for cuddling; he never seemed to mind it, he always wore soft shirts, and he usually smelled like either bread or pastries. I wasn't sure it got any better than this. He was touchy, but not in the gross way that made me want to wretch.

Gale thought cuddling and other forms of PDA that didn't ultimately lead to sex were stupid. I faintly remember agreeing with him at the time, but it was times like this that made me forget why. I wedged myself closer to Peeta's body and laid my head on his chest. I can't believe I was avoiding this, I thought.

We both laughed as Chevy Chase almost fell off the roof of his house on screen.

"Thank you for watching Christmas Vacation with me." I said finally.

"I don't really mind, although I'm more of A Christmas Story guy myself." he said.

I giggled against the front of his shirt. "We used to watch this on Christmas Eve and that on Christmas day," I suddenly remembered. "Huh."

"What?"

"I just….I just remembered that. But that was from when I was little," I sighed.

"It's something."

I was silent a moment, replaying the events of Thanksgiving again in my mind. "Peeta?"

"Hmm?"

"Why…did you think it was so important for me and Prim to makeup?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. She's your sister, Katniss. I mean, you lost her once and I didn't want you to lose her again I guess."

"Oh. I could tell you didn't want to be there. I'd be lying if I said I did myself, but…"

"Your mom is there though. We have to play nice with them at least while she's in their care. Besides…Prim is your sister and you need her, whether or not you'd care to admit it."

"I know," I sighed. We watched a couple more scenes before Peeta spoke again.

"I'm taking Saturday off." he said, sighing into my hair. His fingers stroked through the strands that had fallen out of my braid. I felt his hand at the fastener, pulling it gently off the end. He tossed it onto the coffee table and began weaving his fingers through my wavy hair. I closed my eyes and fought the urge to sleep as his hand moved. His touches sent waves of pleasure down my spine.

"Why's that?"

"It's a surprise," he said lightly. "Nothing big, but…I know you'll like it."

I hummed against his chest. "Is it cookies? Or bread? Because I'm becoming addicted to both living with you. Carb queen, I told you."

He chuckled against the top of my head as a commercial came on. "No, just something nice to celebrate."

"Celebrate? Celebrate what?"

He sighed. "You. Us. Everything."

I lifted my head up off his chest and watched his face. His eyes were droopy and his face was slackened with drowsiness as he stroked my hair away from my face. I rested my chin on his chest and stared up at him.

"You're a good boyfriend."

Peeta gave me a lopsided grin.

"I am?"

"Yes."

His fingers lingered on my cheek for a moment before brushing through my hair. "I hope so. If…If I'm good enough I keep thinking you'll marry me someday."

My heart paused in my chest. His blue eyes widened in jest at me as I stared at him. "Really?"

He nodded lazily. "I plan to get you hooked on my cheese buns and cupcakes. I figure you can't live without them, so you'll have to say yes."

"Is that the plan?" I asked innocently. "I do love cheese buns; it might just work, Mellark."

He wheezed a little. "That's what I'm hoping."

I stared at him, my heart picking up in my chest. It thudded against the front of my shirt as he yawned and chuckled. He looked tired. The couch was comfortable, but not as comfortable as the roomy bed up in the loft I had been hogging for a few weeks now.

"Come sleep with me tonight," I blurted out.

His sleepy eyes got a little wide before he paused. "Seriously?"

I nodded. "Not…to do anything, just to…sleep. I sleep better when you're next to me," I admitted. "That morning after we woke up together on the couch was…nice. I didn't have bad dreams."

He frowned. "You've been having bad dreams?"

I rubbed my lips together and winkled my nose. "Not exactly, but…work with me here Peeta. Just come to bed and sleep with me to make sure they stay away."

"Just to sleep?" His fingers stilled in my hair for a second before he nodded. "Alright. I can do that."

"Really?" I giggled.

His bright yet sleepy smile was my answer. "Really."

We peeled ourselves off the couch and made our way up the steps to the loft. I paused at the top of the steps and chewed my lip as we both paused in front of the edge of the bed.

"You're sure?"

"Of course," I smiled. Peeta pulled back the covers on the side of the bed I rarely used, and I grinned to myself. What Haymitch said was true: it was funny what my body would remember that my mind wouldn't. How had I known even subconsciously that was Peeta's side of the bed?

He started to climb in fully clothed and I stopped and put my hands on my hips. "I know you sleep in your boxers."

He blushed. "So?"

"So you don't have to sleep in all of your clothes." I argued. "Peeta, it's fine. You're my boyfriend and I'm allowed to see you in your boxers. Or…whatever you want to wear."

We shared a coy grin from our sides of the bed where we stood. Peeta nodded, pulling the Henley over his head. I reached out for it and he handed it to me across the bed. I stood back with the shirt in my hands and enjoyed the way his muscles flexed as he reached. My lips turned upwards in a tiny smile as I made my way to the bathroom. I left the door purposefully cracked open as I turned my back and peeled my shirt and bra off, replacing it with his shirt. I pulled on a loose pair of sleep shorts I had discarded on the bathroom floor and walked back out after brushing my teeth.

Peeta stood next the bed and raised an eyebrow at me. "Nice shirt," he said, reaching for the button on his jeans. His eyes met mine as he slowly let them drop to the floor. He wore black boxer briefs that clung to his muscular thighs and made me swallow my saliva.

"What?" he asked.

I'd been caught staring. "Boxer briefs…huh."

He looked down at them bashfully. "What did you expect? Boxers? I'm not an animal you know," he joked. We shared a little smile as he fiddled with the waistband of the underwear. "I used to wear tighty whities, but…that was only because that was all my mom would buy. When I moved out, I…guess you could say I branched out."

"Yeah, I did the same. I had to move out before I was brave enough to buy underwear 'without a butt' as Prim used to call them. Thongs." I laughed.

I padded over to the bed and crawled in, sitting up to rebraid my hair. His hand rose up and touched my hair lightly. "Leave it." he pleaded softly.

"Seriously?"

He gave me a lightly flustered look. "I…I like it down. It feels nice when…"

His words appeared to catch in his throat as he looked down at the bed and sat down. I watched the way his shoulders rolled forward as he put his elbows on his knees.

"When what?"

He shrugged shyly. "When you sleep on me, it's nice to have your hair down. I like to touch it while you sleep. And….Fuck that sounds creepy," he cringed, shaking his head.

I giggled. "No, it's…really sweet. Let's go to bed, come on." I urged, pulling back the covers. He settled back onto the bed and sighed.

"Oh, my bed. It feels so good." he moaned.

"Sorry."

"It's alright. It was a wedding present from my dad and it's a nice bed," he chuckled. "I missed it."

I wasted no time settling myself at his side, already enjoying our closeness. I sighed against his bare chest, inhaling deeply. We were quiet for a moment as we let everything sink in. Peeta nervously cracked one of his knuckles and sighed. I felt his arm wrap around my side as he hooked his thumb into the waistband of my shorts. I smiled against his bare chest.

"Are you nervous to go back to work tomorrow?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Kinda. I'm afraid I won't remember what I'm supposed to do. I don't know anything about bartending."

"Haymitch will help."

"He seems…helpful." I replied sarcastically.

Peeta snickered. "He's not that bad. He'll help you do alright. Just be blunt with him. He's not really a beat around the bush kinda guy."

I smiled against Peeta's chest. "Sounds like we'll get along really well."

"He's a tough old bird but a nice enough guy. I've always liked him. Well…I liked him, he kinda just put up with me. I've known him since I was a kid. He used to buy bread from my dad every now and then, so he'd come into the shop. He liked my dad a lot more than he liked me."

"He doesn't seem to particularly like anyone," I laughed.

We talked for a few more minutes about work and the bakery, but I couldn't help but wonder what he had planned for his day off. I trusted Peeta, so that wasn't an issue. I just really wanted to know what he had up his sleeve.

"You won't tell me what we're doing Saturday?"

His chest shook slightly as he chuckled. "No. But you'll like it."

I fell asleep soon after, my mind running wild with pleasant ideas of what Peeta might have planned.

"Getting frustrated yet sweetheart?"

Haymitch's voice floated over my shoulder as I struggled to keep up. I had already run out of frosty beer mugs once, the archaic cash register had befuddled me at least five times, and I was behind on cleaning glasses. So far all Haymitch had done to help me was laugh and drink with the regulars. I shook my head and cussed at him under my breath. He only laughed and slapped me on the shoulder.

Apparently while I was gone, Haymitch had taken over Friday night bartending himself. Needless to say, even his regulars were growing tired of having to ask him six times for a drink.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another patron waving my down with an annoyed stare. I refilled his beer and struggled with the cash register again, slamming it shut with a frustrated grunt.

Haymitch let out an amused snort behind me. "You'll get the hang of it. Just stop punching the damn buttons so hard."

I turned back to my dishwashing duties at the sink. "Why didn't you make me come back to work sooner?" I asked breathlessly, dunking the beer mugs in the rinsing basin.

He shrugged and tossed back the ice cubs that were in the bottom of his drink. "You had to want it. No one can make you be in a dive like this."

I looked around, shaking my head at him. He did have a point. His bar was a dive, plain and simple. Most of the regulars knew each other by first name, the jukebox had to be turned off at four thirty for Jeopardy, and people left their money, keys and cell phones on the bar when they went to the bathroom. The booths were worn and the barstools were mismatched and rickety, and even though there was no smoking permitted, the entire place still reeked like decade old smoke stench.

"You have a point," I laughed, moving four clean mugs to the freezer. I was frustrated, but some of it wasn't too bad to deal with. I found that a lot of bartending was common sense; get people their drinks quickly, smile at the customers, and keep enough frosty beer mugs handy.

"You'll get the hang of things again."

"I hope I do." I agreed.

Haymitch leaned over his bar and eyed me. His blue eyes would have been pretty had they not been bloodshot and somewhat glassy from the liquor. "So…nothin' huh?"

I frowned. "What are you talking about? You're drunk."

"Nothin," he repeated.

"Nothing what?"

He leaned back on his stool and shook his head a few times. "You don't remember shit, do ya girl?"

I shrugged, feeling a strange sense of trusting attachment settling over me at his gaze. I knew he was referring to my accident.

"Were we…close…before?" I asked. "You talk to me like I should know you better."

He eyed me. "Yeah, we were….pals, I guess."

"Define 'pals'."

He shrugged. "Most people tell me not to drink. You at least keep your damn mouth shut and give me refills without any lip. You always said if I wanted to drink myself to death than that was my own business."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head at him. "Well it is your own business. At least you're a controlled drunk. Do you drive?"

He shook his head. "Live above my bar," he explained. He pointed to a door marked 'stairs' and looked back at me. "I'm an alcoholic, not an idiot."

"Fine then."

He grinned. "You're sure you don't remember me?"

"I told you; bits and pieces sometimes."

He raised a blond eyebrow. "Ever think of hittin' yerself in the head again to see if that would bring it all back?"

I paused, embarrassed that I had even given his crass comment a fleeting thought. "What?" I coughed, struck by laughter. "You're insane."

He shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time someone called me that. Nah, I was just thinkin'."

"No, to answer your question I have not actually thought about hitting myself in the head, thank you. But keep the helpful ideas coming, please."

He chuckled. "Still the same sassy mouth I see." He raised the rest of his drink to his lips and sucked what had to be mostly water out of the bottom of his glass. "Some things don't change."

I had to laugh. "Refill?" I asked.

"You shouldn't egg on an alcoholic."

"Haymitch, has it escaped you that you happen to own a bar?"

His eyes flashed mischievously. "No it has not. Yes to the refill."

I gave him a pointed look as I lifted the bottle of Maker's Mark and poured it into his glass. He made a hand gesture to signal that was enough, and I nodded and put the bottle down.

"Some things never change…" he muttered again.

This time, it made me smile.

Peeta rubbed his gloved hands together before banging his fist down on the dashboard of his truck. The heater sputtered and protested, but eventually started rattling. It would take another ten minutes before warm air would start to flow from the vents, but I didn't care. Peeta had taken the entire day off to spend with me and I had him entirely to myself.

"So you survived your first day back at work. Scale of one to ten?"

I snorted. "Well, Haymitch offered to hit me in the head again in hopes I would get my memory back, I broke two glasses and forgot my tip money. Feel free to throw a number out there."

Peeta looked at me with a wrinkled up nose. "So that's like what, a three and a half?"

"Solid two," I joked. "No, it was alright. I knew I'd be kinda out of it. I didn't know how much, but…"

He shrugged. "It's alright. He knows you're learning this all over again."

"Not everyone is as patient as you, Peeta," I pointed out.

He grinned as his breath came out in puffs of white air. It was Saturday afternoon and Peeta had taken the entire day off as promised. We were packed into the truck in warm clothes with a large thermos of hot chocolate nestled between us on the seat. I had begged relentlessly the night before for him to tell me where we were going, but he adamantly refused to spill any information.

"So you still won't tell me where you're taking me, huh?"

"Nope," he said firmly.

The truck rumbled over the snowy road, taking us out of the city and into the country. We wound through some of the most beautiful countryside I had ever seen; soft hills, pine forests, and winding country roads. When we finally turned off I beamed.

"A Christmas tree farm?"

He smiled proudly and nodded, stepping on the gas again as we made our way down the long drive. We were in the middle of the white, wintery nowhere. He parked and we got out, our snow boots landing in the freshly fallen snow. We had woken up that morning to the loft's skylight being covered completely with a thick coat of snow, only to look out and see about eight inches of the stuff. Peeta said it didn't wreck our plans though, so I wasn't too worried. I slipped on my gloves and hat and followed him around to the back of the truck.

He pulled out an axe with a cover on it and grinned. "I came prepared." he explained.

"Lumberjack Peeta…I like it," I laughed, winking at him.

He blushed before grabbing my gloved hand and trekking forward. We were given a tag to show that we had paid and sent off into the woods. The trees were spread out throughout the farm and we could pick any size. The sun shone brightly through the branches of the evergreens, making the powdery snow sparkle wildly. The scent of snow and pine needles hung in the air, making it the perfect afternoon.

"This is so fun," I whispered against his shoulder, bobbing the balls of my feet. He grinned at me and pulled his hat further down on his blond head.

"The bigger ones are towards the outsides. You might have to walk a ways to get to them," the woman at the counter explained.

"Thank you," Peeta answered brightly. He gave her one last wave and led me outside. A few people were milling about, but the park was still relatively quiet as we walked around the expanse of Christmas trees.

"So…what size do you want?" I asked, reaching out to touch one of the branches. "Looks like we're early enough in the season we get the first pick."

Peeta fiddled with the axe in his hand and shrugged. His face was white except for his cheeks and the tip of his nose as his wide blue eyes took in the trees before us. His gaze wasn't impressed as he surveyed the selection.

"Well," he wheezed through the chill, "we have a wide space. Why not get something taller?" he offered.

I raised my eyebrows. "If you want us to drag something taller back to the truck, then fine."

He shrugged and gave me a mischievous smile. "I'm strong, I got it. I won't cut down a tree I can't take."

I laughed and followed him further into the lot. The trees were planted in no particular pattern; different types were littered about, growing large and larger the further we got from the lot. Every once in a while we would see a stump where someone had cut one down and the smell of pine sap would linger in the air around it. I found myself grinning bigger and bigger the further we trekked into the forest. It was simply magical.

We searched and searched and finally stopped in front of a wide, fat tree. The branches were thick and plush and it was about two feet taller than what I thought Peeta and I could manage, but that didn't matter. I couldn't contain the smile that appeared when I saw it. The sunlight came streaming through the trees at just the right angle, making it sparkle and shimmer in the early afternoon light.

It was perfect.

"Wow," Peeta chuckled, tripping clumsily through the thick snow. He stopped beside me, gaping up at the branches with me. I sniffed and looked up at the tree, my breath forming an appreciative white cloud in front of me as I stood speechless.

"Wow is right. Holy crap, that's a tree," I laughed.

"You got that right," he agreed, walking over to me.

"It's too big though," I whined. "We'll never be able to get it home."

"Nonsense. I brought the truck and some rope. I have a bungee cord if need be. Come on, Katniss. This tree is perfect."

"But….do we have the room?"

He chuckled. "This is our first Christmas. We deserve a tree like this. Come on woman, we need this tree."

I looked over at him with surprise. "It is not either our first Christmas. You told me the other day that-"

He reached out and placed his gloved finger on my lips to halt my speech. "No," he said gently. "This is our first Christmas. We're starting over, remember?"

I smiled as he let his hand fall back to his side. His blue eyed gaze raked over me happily, his lips turning up into a bright smile.

"I guess you're right. Our first Christmas," I agreed.

Peeta slung his arm across my shoulders and gave me a firm kiss on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Katniss. This is our tree, plain and simple."

I wrinkled my nose in jest. "You mean you're gonna chop down this poor tree and haul it all the way back to our apartment just because I think it's pretty?"

He laughed and clapped his gloved hands. "That's exactly what I'm saying. It's what a man does. Keeps his woman happy."

I rolled my eyes. "His woman, huh?"

He nodded, stepping closer to me. I narrowed my eyes at him and waited for him to move.

"Yeah. You're my woman," he chuckled. "I do whatever you ask me to."

I raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered obediently.

"Then kiss me."

Peeta's red cheeks grew a little redder, but he obliged. Leaning in, he placed a soft but meaningful kiss on my lips. I could feel the wetness of his lips against my own frozen ones, and it made something ignite inside of me.

I wanted him.

He kissed me again and again, each one growing deeper. Before we could do anything else, our arms were around each other and we were making out. Aggressively.

His arms wove around my middle, pulling me against his body as I wrapped mine around his neck. Our mouths were suctioned together at this point, our tongues mingling frantically. We were a flurry of lips and tongues and teeth and it was like the floodgates had been opened. Outside it was cold and frosty and miserable but Peeta was warm and inviting and everything I wanted. It was overwhelming suddenly, kissing him like this. He moaned against my lips and I knew he felt the same way. His tongue desperately probed my mouth, stroking and attacking my own with such desire it made my knees quake. I fell back into a snow drift and pulled him down on top of me. I was suddenly thankful we had walked so far away from the rest of the tree farm; we had our privacy that we suddenly desperately needed.

Without breaking away from my mouth, Peeta shed his gloves and tossed them haphazardly over his shoulder. My eyes popped open to see them go flying somewhere behind him. He groaned as he pushed his pelvis against mine, his hard length perfectly arranging itself between my legs. He gazed down at me, the sun behind him illuminating his blue eyes and blond hair for a second.

He looked like an angel.

A hot, lust-filled angel.

Oh God.

"Peeta," I begged, the rest of my words leaving me. I couldn't form them as he lowered himself further down, reuniting our mouths. I could feel the warmth of him through the layer of long underwear and my jeans. He dragged his mouth from my lips to my ear, sucking on the delicate skin beneath my earlobe like a pro. I arched my back and bit back a mewl of pleasure as his mouth immediately found my sweet spot.

My eyes opened again to stare up at the blue winter sky above us.

He knew.

Of course he knew what would make me wild.

This man probably knew every inch of me, and yet he had been holding back for weeks now. I suddenly ached to have Peeta discover me all over again. I had a feeling he could most likely define the word 'pleasure' for me all over again.

A shiver of pleasure rolled down my spine all the way out to my toes as he continued to suck and bite and tease the sensitive skin. My core began to ache with need as I realized again just how badly I wanted him.

"Oh Peeta, yes," I heard myself groan, my hands struggling free of my mittens. I felt like a horny teenager.

No, I just felt horny.

That was more like it.

He thrust his hip against my jeans again and quickly unzipped my coat. His hands slid inside the puffy layers until his fingers were crawling up my bare stomach. The air was cold but his hands were so warm as they trailed up my skin.

"Oh Katniss…oh God, fuck," he muttered against my neck. His lips returned to mine, placing a passionate kiss on them. All the sudden his free hand was at the button on my jeans and forcing its way down into my underwear. I expected to feel nervous but I just felt good. His fingers were feather light and utterly tantalizing as they finally made contact with my dripping core. I cried out in sheer enjoyment as he stroke my delicate folds in just the right way.

"Oh holy shit," I gasped into his neck. He laughed softly and slipped a finger into me. I turned my head and bit his shoulder as my hoarse voice echoed against the snow. Again and again he stroked me, knowing every way I liked to be touched and for how long and just oh.

He knew how to touch me.

He's your husband. Of course he knows, a voice deep inside my brain told me.

Then he added his thumb stroking my clit into the mix and I decided to shut off all parts of my brain.

His warm mouth moved over my neck and jaw and chest until I was so close-

His head jerked up as we heard voices.

"Shit," he gasped, looking over his shoulder.

"What is it?" I panted. I was close. So close.

He gently but quickly ripped his hand out of my underwear and pulled on my arms. I was standing up in a flash, Peeta's hands already at the zipper on my coat. My eyes were still blurry with desire as he zipped me back up and rearranged the hat on my head. A few people walked by, paying little attention to us as they talked and laughed and looked for a Christmas tree. He exhaled with relief and looked over at me.

"That was close."

I panted to myself, half out of panic and relief and half out of sexual frustration. Peeta gave me a knowing look and pulled me against his chest. He buried his nose in my hair and inhaled.

"I was….oh my lord," I panted. "That was…"

"Only the beginning. I….I didn't want to stop."

I pulled my head back and looked up at him. "Neither did I," I admitted.

He looked down at me questioningly, a faint smile on his lips. "Yeah?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

Peeta leaned down and kissed me softly, moaning lightly against my lips. "I will finish this. Tonight, if you want. I didn't know that people would…interrupt. I'm sorry. Will you live?"

I shrugged. "Can girls get blue balls?"

Peeta barked a laugh and pulled me tighter against his chest. "I will make it up to you, I promise," he chuckled. We turned and glanced at our chosen tree, smirks dancing between us. He leaned over and placed a kiss on my cheeks. "Merry Christmas, Katniss."


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25: Girl On Fire

Even though our steamy mood had been broken by our intruders, the ride home in Peeta's truck was still so electrically charged it made the hair on my neck stand on end. I kept sneaking little glances at him as he drove, barely resisting the urge to jump him the minute he pulled up to a stoplight. He was grinning from ear to ear as he always did after we kissed or groped or did something else fun. I almost laughed; it was a good thing we weren't teenagers. Someone like Peeta would have a heck of a time acting innocent after barely getting caught by his parents. He was grinning happily as he drove, his black hat pushing his blonde curls over his forehead. His cheeks were a ruddy shade of pink from the cold, and his tongue kept darting out to lick his slightly chapped lips that had felt so perfect against mine.

He noticed me staring at him and it made him smile even bigger.

"The tree will look nice babe. You picked a good one," he said, patting my hand.

I slid over closer to him on the seat so that our thighs were touching. "You helped pick it out," I said innocently.

He nodded, his eyes flashing back to the road. The car behind us honked for him to speed up, which he did with a snort. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered under his breath.

My skin pricked anxiously as I chewed my bottom lip. His mouth on my neck had felt utterly sinful and delicious. His weight pinning me to the snow had felt strangely comforting and familiar. I had barely been able to feel the cold beneath my back as his warm hands had run up my shirt and down into my pants. I squeezed my legs together and almost bit through the soft flesh of my lip as I remembered our near tryst in the snow just minutes before. My body was still completely charged and turned on and ready for action. I wanted more.

"It's a perfect tree for our first Christmas."

"Agreed."

"I'll never forget going to the Christmas tree farm to pick it out," I said knowingly.

Peeta's cheeks got a little redder. "Me either," he replied with a smirk.

I tried my best not to laugh later that night as Peeta sat on the floor, his blonde brows furrowed as he struggled to untangle a giant ball of Christmas lights. Our new, freshly scented tree was up in front of the large windows, standing proudly yet pathetically bare. The entire loft smelled like wintery pine and it seemed like it was ushering in the Christmas season for us. The tree would be a reminder of our turning point in the woods.

I was guessing it would stay bare for another couple of hours before Peeta got the lights untangled. I snickered to myself as I heard him cuss under his breath and heave a sigh.

"I don't think I'm making any progress," he said finally, tossing one measly strand to the side. "When I pack these up again this year after Christmas, please smack me to remind me how much work this was. Never again…never again am I putting myself through this."

"I won't smack you, but I'll remind you," I snickered as I wound a strand of garland around the railing leading up to the loft. Peeta cracked his back below and growled to himself as he continued struggling with the lights.

"Do you think we should just go out and buy all new ones?"

"Do you want some help?" I laughed.

I padded back down the steps and stood behind him to admire the tree. It was nearly ten feet tall and the most gorgeous thing I'd ever seen. After the mood in the woods had been sufficiently squandered by the intruders, I had watched Peeta chop it down with skill. Lumberjack Peeta was definitely something I was adding to my mental list of naughty thoughts for the shower. I'd have to take one later, I thought. It took us twenty minutes to drag it back to his truck and tack it securely to the bed, but it was worth it. Reaching my hand out, I ran my fingers over the branches and smiled.

"It's so beautiful," I sighed.

Peeta rolled his eyes for what I'm sure was the first time ever and gave me a pleading look. "It will be prettier with lights," he added hopefully.

"Fine," I laughed, moving over to sit beside him. He was right. The sun was quickly setting and I'd hoped to at least have some lights on the tree by dark. I was looking forward to gazing at the tree with Peeta and a glass of wine later, so I sat down and quickly got to untangling. Working together, we soon unraveled six of the longest strands of lights I'd ever seen. With the help of a ladder and the edge of Peeta's drawing desk, we were finally able to get the lights on the tree.

"I say we do the rest tomorrow. I'm tired," he laughed, flopping down on the couch.

"Fine," I laughed, flipping off the rest of the lights. Even without garlands, ornaments and bows the tree looked like something magical. It stretched up past the tall loft's windows, the full branches taking up almost the entire corner. I was still sore from helping Peeta drag it to the truck, but seeing it now made it worth it. The only light in the large living room was coming from the soft, white lights of the tree. I sighed in contentment and gazed up at it.

"So pretty," he mused, leaning back against the cushions. His hair was still wet from his shower, and that reminded me that I needed one. I didn't exactly want to smell like a sweaty forest if we did happen to pick up where we left off earlier.

"Alright. It's shower time for me. I'll be back so we can continue out Christmas movie marathon, yeah?" I asked, leaning down to put my face dangerously near his. I could still smell the lingering scent of sugar cookie on his breath. Silly goose thought he was sneaking them behind my back in the kitchen earlier.

Peeta grinned impishly. "Deal."

I leaned forward and kissed him, swiping my tongue out to enjoy the traces of sugar on his tongue. Damn, I love how obsessed this man was with sweets. He almost always smelled like heaven and tasted like sugar. I broke away, returning the smile and laughing at his suddenly hazy eyes.

"Hurry back," he managed to mumble. He grinned at the TV and shook his head like a cartoon character as I walked away. "Definitely hurry," he added.

I tossed him a sultry look over my shoulder and hurried up the steps.

Suddenly, I had to stop. My vision grew a little hazy and seemed to grow fuzzy at the edges. A strange sensation settled over me as if I had been there before.

Of course you've been here before. This is your house, my brain chided me.

But…it felt far more familiar than it had been the past few weeks. I gripped the handle of the railing and froze, willing my brain to cling to the feeling. This felt accustomed and normal suddenly. I looked around, pushing my feet up the last step. I stood in the middle of the bedroom I shared with Peeta as my vision continued to shake and blur. It was like déjà vu but more.

And then it was gone.

I gulped audibly and looked around, suddenly very confused. For a brief second I felt…normal.

I felt like myself and not an imposter.

But it was gone. I thought of retracing my steps to trigger it again, but figured it was probably useless.

"What the heck was that?" I murmured to myself as I grabbed my robe. My hands shook slightly as I peeled off my clothes, glancing through the open bathroom door to the top of the steps. Was there some sort of memory porthole in that spot? What had made my memory flash back to normal like that? I made a note to tell Cinna about it at my appointment next week. I had another check up with him and Effie both next week, so maybe I would bring it up then. Either way, I felt fine. I didn't want it to ruin the night I had planned with Peeta.

I jumped in the shower and lathered up, even opting to shave my legs. With things progressing between me and Peeta, I wanted to be prepared. Just in case.

But even though my excitement and thoughts of Lumberjack Peeta, my stupid brain kept going back to think about my strange little memory trip. It was all I could think about as I washed and conditioned my hair. What had that meant? Cinna had explained that the brain didn't heal like any other part of the body and he couldn't predict how or when my memory would come back to me. Were flashes all I would get?

I toweled off and stared at myself in the mirror as I combed my long hair out and winced at the snarls. As fun as falling back in love with Peeta was, I'd still give anything to pick up where we left off last time. We seemed so happy then. Not that we weren't now, I just…I could sense that even though Peeta acted happy to have me back a piece of him mourned the old me.

He missed Katniss his wife.

He had to make due with Katniss the girlfriend.

I knew it wasn't my fault, but I still felt awful that he had to start all over again with someone who looked at him like a complete stranger. Of course we were growing closer and closer by the day, but I still knew he wanted the old me back.

This ordeal had been so hard on him, and yet he had been utterly perfect with me. I smiled at myself in the mirror as I slabbed my toothbrush with paste and started to work.

I would pay him back. Somehow.

Once dried and fresh, I pulled on a pair of his baggy sweatpants and one of his soft, flannel shirts. He always complained when I wore his clothes, but I knew he loved it. He would grin and shake his head and pretend to be annoyed, but I saw right through him.

I paused at the top of the steps where I had my episode and waited. Was there something magical about the top of the stairs that would trigger it? I stood and waited, anticipating another blurry flash of memories.

Nothing.

"Weird," I muttered, walking down the steps. Peeta already had 'The Santa Claus' playing by the time I slid onto the couch next to him to spoon.

"Really?" I asked in mock disbelief.

He shrugged. "I like when the kid comes home from the North Pole and is pretending to drive the reindeer in his room…I might have done that as a kid," he laughed.

I pulled his arm around my side and pressed my back against his chest as we snuggled together on the couch. This was officially day two of our Christmas movie marathon, and I could stand a cheesy 90's movie if it meant I could spoon with Peeta. I could push my horny needs aside for a few more hours in order to have some cuddle time. I could tell the day's activities had worn him out.

"Nice shirt…and pants," he chuckled, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants that I wore. I shivered at his touch, the contact of his finger on my hip making me smile against the couch cushion. They were too loose, but what they lacked in fit they made up for in softness. I snuggled down further on the couch and ignored him. Instead, I gazed over at our beautiful Christmas tree. I couldn't help but wonder what Christmas would bring me this year. Normally I remembered spending it with my mother and Prim. I could even faintly remember my father and Gale being there. Christmas meant family.

For the first time ever, I felt a little short on the 'family' part. My dad was dead, my mother checked out and Prim was still a little more than I could take in large amounts. I didn't know what the upcoming holiday would bring.

"So…"

"So?" he asked.

"So Christmas is in a few weeks."

He lifted his head up and let his breath blow across my ear. I shuddered and hoped he didn't notice.

"So…are we going to spend it together?"

He barked out a laugh and suddenly the wedding ring on his finger burned against the skin of my hip. "Sorry, but what? Of course we are. I mean...don't you want to?"

"Well yeah, I just…didn't know if you had other places to be or something?"

Peeta shifted on the couch and hugged me against him tighter. "I know we're just um…boyfriend and girlfriend, but that still means we spend holidays together," he chuckled. "Did you think I was just going to wake up on Christmas and leave you here alone all day?"

"Well…no, but I didn't know if there was something you needed to do that day." I admitted.

"Well, my dad invited us over Christmas day to eat with our family. I told him a tentative yes, but that I would have to run it past you."

"That sounds…nice," I admitted. "We can do that."

"We have a month, Katniss. Don't worry about it just yet, okay?"

"Okay," I nodded. I let my head fall back against the pillow he had stolen from the opposite end of the couch. His hand on my hip pulled me closer so that I was flush against the front of his body. I began to relax against his warm frame, laughing every once in a while at the cheesy movie as it played. I grew so relaxed in fact, that I fell asleep.

I woke up with a small start, forgetting where I was. Another movie was playing now, and it was completely dark out. The tree still glowed luminously in the corner of the room, making me smile to myself.

Peeta's breath was low and even against the bare skin of my neck and I knew he was asleep or close to it. I couldn't blame him – the B-list Christmas movie on the screen isn't anything really intriguing, so it didn't surprise me that we had both drifted off. I arched my back to stretch and my eyes widened as I realized two things.

Peeta was asleep.

Peeta was hard.

I froze as I felt his erection nestled against my ass. It was long and thick and warm against the soft fabric of his pants. I had the perfect opportunity to slowly wake him up and finish what we had started earlier that day at the Christmas tree farm, but something made me freeze. Was I ready? I sure felt ready. I could already feel myself growing slightly wet just thinking about the way his fingers has touched and teased me earlier. He had known how to touch me and how to make me shiver with pleasure. It was all so appealing I almost didn't know what to do. It was new and old at the same time, I realized. New for my mind, familiar to my body. I gulped. I was about to shift again when he inhaled deeply and woke. A pleasant shudder rolled over my body as he placed a wet, lingering kiss on my neck.

"Oh…sorry Kat. I…forgot," he mumbled sleepily. "Sorry about that, and…oh God," he muttered embarrassedly, shifting his hips away from me. He realized he had his naptime stiffy pressed into my back and he was obviously mortified.

I gulped away my nervousness and reminded myself how much I wanted this. If I hadn't fallen out of that stupid tree and we were just us, it wouldn't matter. I would turn around and take my husband right there on the cushy sofa without another thought. I turned and looked at him with wide eyes. "It's okay Peeta. I…you…you feel good."

I struggled to maintain eye contact after my words, but they seemed to pacify him. "Yeah?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," I nodded "It's alright," I added, reaching up to touch his cheek over my shoulder. He smiled and leaned down, pressing another kiss against my exposed neck. I shuddered again and pressed myself closer, suddenly wanting to feel him – all of him. His free hand roamed up my side, pulling my shoulder over so that he could shift his weight. I glanced up at him and gave him an encouraging nod before lifting my head off the pillow. His eyes drooped slightly before finally pressing his lips against mine. It's slow and feather light, but it made my insides churn with an electricity I was almost afraid of.

Again and again we kissed, slowly getting bolder each time. His tongue languidly touched mine, invading my welcoming mouth. He seemed to melt against me as we kissed wildly, getting more and more frantic with need. We shifted on the couch and all of the sudden he was hovering over me, his knee between my legs. I groaned into his mouth and deepened the kiss we were sharing. He smiled against my lips and chuckled. His tongue caressed mine in the softest way it made me want to shatter into a million pieces. Pulling him down, I made him rest completely on top of me so that I could hook my leg around his back and use it to lift up my hips. His weight settled over me like it did back at the Christmas tree farm. It felt warm and inviting and right. The first time I ground my pelvis with his he hissed and let his lips fall to my neck.

"Peeta," I whispered, my voice more pleading that I would have cared to admit. I felt his lips turn upwards into a smile against my skin.

"Yes?"

"Don't stop."

"Who said anything about stopping?" He groaned. Peeta placed delicate, lingering kisses on the skin of my neck that seem to tingle all the way down my body to the apex between my thighs. The need was growing stronger to the point where it was almost unbearable and maddening.

I wanted more.

My fingers were clumsy as I reached around and pull at his worn t-shirt at the spot behind his neck. He grinned and pulled it off, exposing his broad, pale chest to me. I felt another tingling as I take in the masterpiece that is my husband – my Peeta. I trailed my hand down his chest, over his pecs, and over his abdomen and the light dusting of pale hair that disappeared into his flannel pants. All of the lifting and twisting and kneading he did in the bakery really paid off; I could hardly fight the urge to explore every crevice. He chuckled and whispered, "Careful, I'm ticklish."

"You are?" I laughed quietly.

He nodded. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked seriously. "I mean it; we can if you want. I know I asked, but…really."

He knew I don't want him to stop. My wanton gaze should have told him that. I could barely hide how much I really don't want him to stop.

I shook my head 'no' and gave him an encouraging smile. I think he knows I want this as much as he does.

Sensing this, he keeps himself propped on one hand while the other fumbled with the buttons on the shirt of his that I wore. Once it's open enough, he pushed it to the side and didn't hesitate to take my nipple into his mouth. My eyes rolled back in my head as he softly sucked and scraped his teeth against my skin in a delicious way.

"Oh…oh God, Peeta," I groaned without realizing. He pushed the shirt to the other side and treated the other breast to the same exquisite treatment. I fought to keep quiet as I ground against his knee and revel in the way his mouth is making me feel. His tongue swiped across the turgid peak, teasing and tasting and making me crazy.

"Take it off," I pleaded.

Peeta ripped at the buttons, his strong hands making a few pop off and go flying in the process. We both giggled as he pushed the shirt to the side, leaving my top half completely exposed. He kissed down my stomach, down my abdomen, and to the place where his too-large sweatpants were resting on my hips. He glanced up at me through his blonde lashes with hooded eyes and gave me a boyish grin.

"Is this okay?"

I could only nod and whimper at this point. "How do you know me so well?" I muttered, lifting my hips so that he can pull the pants completely off. "My body remembers you Peeta," I whispered.

He looked up at me with need, his blue eyes dilated with lust. I met his gaze and returned it, letting him know how badly I needed him. He clutched his pants in his hand and let his eyes rake down my body that was undulating with desire.

"Please…don't make me beg," I whispered urgently.

He chuckled again and tossed them on the floor. I'm bare to him at that point except for the flannel shirt that is completely unbuttoned; my mind was a little alarmed buy my body doesn't seem to be. Peeta ran his warm hands down my sides, his strong fingers giving the newly exposed skin the wakeup it needs. Goose bumps popped up on my torso as he slid downwards, pausing to kiss, suck, and lick.

I felt like I was on fire. Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire, I thought with a smirk.

"I love this," he murmured against my skin. The vibration of his deep voice against my hip bone made me thrust my bare center against his knee.

My eyes fluttered shut as he placed a lingering kiss on my hip, his tongue darting out to wet the skin there. He groaned as he dropped his hand between my legs and lets his fingers brush my center. He resumed his work from earlier, his light touches and strokes falling on all the right places.

"Shit," he groaned, feeling my wetness. I matched his sentiment completely, my hips thrusting up of their own accord. Glancing down, I saw his eyes flash up to meet mine in question.

"I want you to," I muttered.

That is all the encouragement he needed. His fingers worked gently, stroking and touching my most intimate places. It still felt foreign and new at times but so welcome my head is spinning. I let it fall back on the pillow as he slowly achingly slowly finds the place I wanted him to touch the most. A pitiful whimper fell from my lips as I felt him begin to circle his thumb over me.

And then…

Fire.

Hot, delicious, soothing fire cascades over my limbs as Peeta put his tongue on me. It circled and lapped at my center as I fought not to writhe too much. I could feel the way his hands gently held my hips in place as he worked to bring me pleasure. His lips were warm and soft as they pause to place a few light kisses on my bud before he swiped his thumb across it again. Peeta's name came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop it, and I anchored myself by running my fingers through his shaggy blonde hair. He groaned against me as I pulled lightly, the vibrations only pushing me further. His hands wrapped around my thighs and he used his new leverage to pull me even closer to him. This new assault on my body is welcomed, and before I knew it I am burning up. He sucked and lick with a new passion as my legs begin to quake and pull against his strong arms. But Peeta held on, his mouth sending me over the edge and into the flames. As I came I looked down to see him close his eyes and grip my skin tighter. His fingertips were digging into my skin, but I couldn't be bothered to care.

This time, I really did shatter into a million pieces. I fisted his hair in my palm and pulled him as close as two people could get. I exploded against his mouth and the lights of the Christmas tree blurred before my eyes.

I panted so hard I sounded like I'd just run a race. My body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and my heart was beating loudly in my ears but oh my god did I feel good.

I felt like flying.

Peeta rested his head against my naked stomach, his hand pulling away gently. We laid there together for a second, both of us staring at the bright lights of the tree. They blurred together like a Boca picture if I stared long enough. Finally, his lifted his head up and rested his chin on my abdomen.

"Hi," he said, smiling wolfishly.

I felt myself blush.

"Is it every day you make me come like that with your mouth?" I asked suddenly.

His blue eyes flashed.

"Before the accident," I clarified. "Did you do that to me a lot?"

Peeta coughed and shifted against the couch. "Whenever you let me, yes." he agreed.

I sputtered a laugh and pulled him up to be level with me. "You can always do that from now on," I whispered before pulling his lips to mine. e I I

He groaned into my mouth, his lips as needy as my body felt. We broke apart, nose to nose to stare at each other.

"Peeta…"

"Yeah?"

"I'm…I'm not ready to go everything tonight. Just not yet. But…would you like to go upstairs with me?"

He raised his eyebrows and gave me a playful grin. "That's what boyfriends do."


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26: Real

Even though he had readily agreed to go upstairs with me, I still felt Peeta's palm sweat against mine as we walked up the steps to the loft. We paused at the top, giving each other stupid grins for a second.

"This feels weird. Is this weird for you?" I asked, suddenly giddy. I felt giggly, which never happens. I'm not the type of person who giggled when they got nervous, but there I was. I guess giddy was a better word to describe me as I gripped his palm against mine. I stood in front of him in his oversized flannel shirt and nothing else; my pants and any sense of embarrassment were both left on the living room floor in a heap.

Peeta blushed and looked around, rubbing his lips together. He was still shirtless and just in a pair of loose pajama pants that hung off of his hips. His eyes raked over my bare legs as he remembered I was already halfway naked. He still had half wood in his sweatpants and it looked promising. I could suddenly barely resist the urge to throw him on the bed and take him right there. "Umm…yeah. Maybe we should just…"

He trailed off, leaning in to press his lips to mine again. Words weren't important I guess. I forgot any need for them as he sucked my bottom lip between his before licking his way into my mouth. I could taste myself on his tongue as he slid it slowly against mine, stroking it in a suggestive manner. He pulled away and raised an eyebrow as if he was asking for approval.

I giggled nervously again, raising my hands up to thread my fingers in his hair. "We don't have to do everything."

"Or anything," he echoed. "No pressure."

"Yes, but…I think we owe it to our marriage…relationship…living arrangement to do this."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…we've been good for so long I think we might combust if we don't…at least do something. This doesn't feel rushed or wrong or….anything," I promised.

He gulped, making his Adam's apple bob slightly. It was now or never and I didn't want to let my nerves get the best of me. If I didn't do this I would combust like I had mentioned. I leaned forward and kissed him there on his neck, letting my teeth scrape against him lightly as my hands in his hair anchored him to me. The skin of my forearms could feel the way goose bumps rose up on his neck from my touch. I broke away and rubbed my hips against the tent that was forming in his pants. Peeta shifted against me, his cheeks turning a little red as he inhaled a raspy breath. I kissed my way up his neck, over the jawline I loved so much, and up to his mouth. His lips moved slowly over mine for a few seconds before I broke away to look at him.

"We owe it to ourselves."

"You think?"

I kissed his neck again, nodding in answer as my hips made another pass over his erection. A low, strangled moan came from his throat as I lowered my hands to brush the front of his pants. The noise seemed to die on his lips as I passed over it again. I let my hands linger against his now stiff arousal, rubbing up his length. The sweat pants did little to hide how excited he was, and in turn that made me anticipate what was to come. Peeta had brought me pleasure, and I wanted to reciprocate.

Badly.

I kissed him again I pushed his shoulders back towards our made bed. I laughed as he made it each morning, dutifully pushing the covers into place and fluffing the pillows. It was just a Peeta thing to do I guess. We fell back onto the comforter on our sides, my bare leg immediately hooking around his. His lips attacked mine, the light amount of stubble on his chin brushing against my skin with each pass. I could remember the way it had felt against other parts of my body and it made me quiver slightly as he ran his hand up my exposed thigh. When I thought he would stop, he surprised me. He pushed the fabric of the flannel shirt to the side, letting the shirt fall open. He broke away for a moment to let his eyes fall to the exposed area once again. He had seen me on the couch of course, but he was still looking at me like this was the first time.

"I never get tired of this," he laughed raspily, his lips claiming mine again. He broke away tortured as he looked at my body again. We were on the bed, side by side in the colorful, dim light of the stained glass lamp in the corner. It was flattering light I guess; I had never been one for much nudity. I had been modest since I was a teenager so letting anyone see me naked was quite a feat. Peeta's eyes gave me another appreciative gaze as I let him look at me.

"Like what you see?" I teased.

His blue eyes flashed when they met mine. "I always have," he chuckled. He took a short breath before letting his lips crash against mine. His gentle, slightly calloused hand made my skin prickle as he ran it up my bare side, pushing the flannel further away. He skimmed my breast, just barely touching the curve of it before tracing his fingers lightly down my arm.

Agony, but the best kind.

His lips were urgent and excitable as he kissed me and it took me a moment to catch up. I needed to let this happen and shut my brain off. My body remembered him, and now it was time to let it enjoy what was happening. The only thing I could concentrate on was the way his lips felt against mine, his hands on my body, and the way he was making me feel. Without another thought, I switched off my mind and let my body do the thinking for now.

I wanted to let it do what it wanted to do.

And at the moment it wanted to let Peeta worship it.

A strangled breath caught in my throat as his fingertips teased the skin of my collar bone. I felt myself shudder at his suggestive, feather light touches. I wanted him to touch me and he knew it too; he was teasing. He wasn't even close to my breasts and I was quickly coming undone. However, I was certain Peeta could touch me on my kneecap and get my mind reeling wildly. I broke away from his kisses and began pulling at the stretchy hem of his sweatpants. I wanted to see more of him. Not a fleeting glimpse after a shower or a tent in his pants. I wanted to admire the full view firsthand.

He chuckled and rolled onto his back, pulling the pants down his stocky legs and lifting his butt far enough off of the bed to push them down past his ankles. The fell to the floor with a soft noise and he was left in his black boxer briefs.

"I'm naked, those have to go too," I chided playfully, running my fingertip down his chest. I let my hand linger there, my fingers playing with the elastic. Peeta's mouth twitched with a smile as I slid my fingers inside just far enough to make him jump. I playfully snapped the band of elastic against his hip, making him jump again.

"Fine, fine," he laughed, pulling them down. I leaned on my elbow andditched the flannel shirt once and for all. He turned back to me, rolling back on his side once we were completely naked. He sighed and mirrored my pose, leaning on his elbow as he looked at me expectantly.

We grinned at each other as I tried not to look down. I didn't want to make it completely obvious that I was checking out his junk for the first time, but…I still wanted to get a good look. He was my husband slash boyfriend after all. Didn't that entitle me to a look at his package? I had seen him naked after his shower, but…most of me had been too shocked and embarrassed to get a good look.

"Well…" he hummed, chewing his lip.

I stared at him, willing my eyes to behave. "Um…what?"

"I know you want to look," he chuckled. "You've earned it," he joked.

I laughed and let my eyes flash down to size him up. I let my eyes trail downwards, following the light dusting of blonde hair down his navel. The hair got a few shades darker the lower I went, and then….there he was. Medium sized but definitely decently thick. I raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked suddenly, panic lacing his voice.

"You're…you manscape. That's so nice," I laughed honestly, reaching out to lay my hand on his hip.

He gave a relieved sigh, nodding. "Yeah, I do. It's only polite. You do so…"

I had to laugh. "Yes, I do keep up with that, thank you."

"So…I'm okay? You didn't run screaming from the room."

"Which time?"

"Well, the first time and now this first time. So I guess I pass," he joked.

I snorted and reached my hand out, giving his erect manhood a tentative touch with my fingertips. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and stopped laughing. I looked up at him without stopping my hand, taking in his suddenly hooded gaze. Leaning forward, I placed my lips on his and kissed him softly. He responded back, but just barely. I had to smile; all of the blood in his body was probably surging to his crotch and not helping the rest of his brain with his motor skills at the moment. His hips moved forward slightly, begging me wordlessly for more.

His eyes fell shut and his breath violently left his chest as I took him in my hand and lightly squeezed. I felt the smooth skin pulse under my touch, the heat of him maddening. His free hand slipped down from my collar bone, brushing over one of my breasts. We were still on our sides facing one another, so I pushed him back on his back. His arm went around me as I gave him another soft stroke.

"Ungggg…" he murmured, suddenly unable to form words. I took that as a good sign. He had made me incapable of speech a few minutes ago on the couch and I could remember the feeling well. The inability to make words usually meant things were playing out well.

"Is this good?" I whispered.

He could only nod as I moved my hand up and down his thick shaft. I knew how to get a guy off, but I suddenly felt nervous. I wanted to make him feel as good as he had made me feel. What if I did something he didn't particularly like?

"What do you…you know, like?"

Peeta let his head fall back against the bed as he barked out a nervous laugh. "I…well I'm a guy, you know what I like. You're naked and in my bed, I think that…that pretty much covers it."

I stroked him again, watching as his hips pushed forward to try to savor my touch. This didn't feel like the first time I'd done this, so I went with it. I watched his breathing as I touched him, making note of how he liked it. He enjoyed the firm, even strokes the most but seemed to suck in an appreciative breath when I flicked my thumb over his head.

"I'm…not going to last long, shit," he managed to say. He groaned and sucked in a breath when he was close, his hands clutching the comforter.

"Oh God, Katniss…I…I…"

He lost all sense of speech as he came, spilling onto his stomach. I watched him relax onto the bed, running a shaky hand through his hair. His breath was still in short, labored pants but began to slow as he relaxed. I handed him a few Kleenex from the nightstand and waited as he cleaned himself off.

"So that was-"

He cut me off, grabbing me roughly and attacking my mouth with his. I made a noise of shock as his surprising albeit welcomed attack registered on my body. Peeta pulled me on top of him with a grunt, running his hands down my sides and over my ass. He cupped me and settled me over him, making me hiss as I felt him nestled against my center. He was still recovering but I could tell it wouldn't take him long.

Besides, we had a lot of making up to do.

A switch went off inside of me.

A needy switch.

I leaned forward and finished our kiss, groaning against his lips as I straddled him on the bed. One of his hands stayed on my waist while the other moved between us. He started at my cheek, caressing it lovingly as we frantically kissed. Then, it slid down to my neck, over my collar bone, and to one of my breasts. It lightly squeezed and cupped me, making my core tingle with anticipation. His thumbnail lightly scraped over one of my nipples, making another hot jolt of electricity shoot down to my clit. I ground myself against him shamelessly, needing some sort of friction to help handle the way he was making me feel.

"Oh Peeta," I groaned, the strangled noise muffled against his mouth. He grinned in the way that I loved and pulled me closer as his hand slid down. I felt him cup my sex lovingly, teasing me before he delivered. I moaned again; an urgent, pleading noise. He listened. His fingers lightly touched me as he had in the woods that day, circling the place I wanted him most.

"Stop teasing," I chided playfully. He had already proved on the couch he knew how to get me off in at least one way, and I wanted to see how he did this way.

"Fine then," he muttered. With that, he sunk two fingers into me and effectively made me a quivering mess in his lap. I felt like Jell-O. He sat up, shifting into an Indian-Style pose as I straddled him. I opened my eyes for a brief second and saw his dilated blue gaze as he watched me. His fingers were thick and warm as they stroked me on the inside, bringing me closer and closer. I couldn't have done it better myself. He added his thumb, making me fall forward against his shoulder with a shaky laugh. It felt so good.

"You don't fight fair," I whined against his skin. I kissed his clavicle as his fingers teased me further. He hit a good spot, making me scrap my teeth against his skin in response. He sucked in a sharp breath and laughed against my ear.

"I don't fight fair, you're right."

His fingers curled slowly forward, brushing against my g-spot. I cried out in surprise as they continued their efforts, my body jolting uncontrollably. My calves clenched so hard I had an immediate double Charlie horse, but I was seeing too many stars to care.

"Peeta!" I cried my voice cracking. He pressed his thumb down on my clit as he kept his other two fingers busy against my g-spot and I came again. "Holy shit," I groaned. My fingers dug into his shoulders as I moved my hips against his fingers. His thick, talented, amazing fingers.

"Katniss…"

"That…that has to be a record," I panted. "You…I've never…holy shit."

A pleasurable aftershock rolled down my spine and stretched to the tips of my fingers and toes as I came down. I knew it quite feasible for my husband to know how to get me off, but that well? I was amazed. With his free hand, he pulled my face down to his and gave me a deep, lingering kiss. I kissed him back, not expecting him to suddenly continue. His fingers stroked forward, again brushing the spot deep within my walls that made me treble.

"Holy fuck…"

My body jerked roughly again, sending another euphoric orgasm over ricocheting off every inch of my insides. I fell forward on his shoulder again, my body undulating against his hand as he brought me down. He pulled away, uncrossing his legs and pulling me down beside him on the bed with a tired pant. I gasped a few times as I recovered, my lady bits singing his praises.

How on earth could I have forgotten that?

It had never been like that with Gale.

Ever.

I looked up at him with hazy eyes as he pulled the blanket around us and fell back on the bed as we lay on top of the comforter.

"Peeta….three? Who does that? Three?" I asked in disbelief.

He smirked proudly, his blue eyes darting to meet mine as he stretched his arm around my shoulders. "Well…it's a good thing one of us remembers, right?" he joked.

I playfully shoved him in the shoulder and shook my head. "I'm glad, yes."

"We've had practice at that," he laughed. "Lots and lots of practice."

"But it's been awhile…"

"I guess it's a lot like riding a bike."

After my breathing went back to normal, I put my head on his chest and let myself enjoy the post-orgasm feeling. While I still wanted to go further, it was the slow burn of our relationship at this point that I didn't want to waste. We were still in the stages of a relationship where we were getting more and more comfortable with each other but still able to laugh nervously with each other when we breached something else. It was exciting. The newness of it all was dizzying and electric; I felt new again. Of course I still wanted him in that way, but it was nice to get to know him again.

It was nice to learn myself again.

While I remembered having sex with Gale and still shamefully compared him to Peeta in the dark corners of my mind, this was all very new to me. Of course I shouldn't compare the two, but can you really help it? I realized the two men were so different and shouldn't be compared, but was I to blame for still doing it? Most of the time I didn't even realize I was. Peeta always won with flying colors so I guess that was my way of justifying it. But as much as I wanted to skip forward and just do it already, this was fun too. We were growing together slowly, the roots of our relationship growing stronger than ever as time passed.

"I love this," I admitted, letting my fingertip dance across his broad chest. He was built but not ripped, pale skinned and soft where I touched him. The few sparse hairs on his chest tickled my fingers as I pressed my ear over his heart. His heartbeat was steady and strong, thumping loudly in my ear as I sighed contentedly.

"Me too," he admitted. "But then…I always have."

My eyes moved to the place at the top of the stairs where I had the memory flash earlier. Should I tell him? Or would that be teasing him with hope that my memory was slowly coming back? It had been weeks since the accident and still nothing. I'd been so happy with Peeta that I'd almost forgotten that I had lost my memory, but surely he hadn't. It was possible it might not ever come back at this point and that was something I was slowly coming to grips with.

I pressed my lips together and decided to stay quiet. There was no use getting his hopes up for nothing.

I did want to know one thing though.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," he sighed.

"When I called you that night when I was still at the Hawthorne's… I…I saw some texts on my phone. They were from you. 'real and not real'. What did they mean?"

Peeta looked at me with surprise. "I was wondering when you'd ask about that."

"Yeah, I'd almost forgotten about it actually. What…what does 'real' and 'not real' mean?"

He hugged me to his chest as we stared up at the snow-covered skylight in our bedroom. He sighed deeply, his heart stuttering slightly against my ear.

"When I first met you…and we were….friends…that flirted….I asked you once about your chemistry with Gale. He came in to the bakery with you once and I just….I saw you together and he acted a certain way. It didn't seem like him."

"He did?"

"Yeah. Very…dramatic and in love with you and like he couldn't take his hands off of you. It made me boil, but….I found myself thinking that if I had you I'd be the same way. He just surprised me was all because it didn't seem like him."

I knew what he was talking about. In public Gale used to be showy – hell, he still was. After money came into the picture he was all about making a scene for attention and looking good for all to see. When he proposed and gave me the ring I could remember him showing me off, proudly proclaiming that the love of his life had accepted his proposal. But in private he was still the same – closed off, guarded, and cold. It was like Jekyll and Hyde.

"It wasn't," I admitted. "He was very…one way in public and another in private. He did that for show, or…attention, I'm not sure."

"Right, well…I asked you one day if you guys really had the crazy chemistry you appeared to have. I sensed you didn't, and…that was part of the reason I asked. You told me with a little laugh that it 'wasn't real'. And…I watched from across the counter as your eyes got this look in them. This sad, far off look that seemed so wrong. I just kept playing that over and over in my head as the weeks went by. I never forgot it.

"Then, when you finally agreed to go out with me we had this….bond right away. I was finally allowed to flirt with you and touch you and pay for dinner the way I'd dreamt about for so long. You weren't his anymore….I had the opportunity to win you over and make you mind I was just drunk on the feeling of it. We connected over dinner, you know? I was so ecstatic that it wasn't just in my head all those months. And…I asked you in the bread truck after dinner if the crazy chemistry I felt with you was real or not. And you said, 'real'. You looked at me like I was crazy too. Like you couldn't believe I would actually have ask that. But I did because it didn't seem like something that good could actually happen. You were there with me, not him and….we hit it off like I knew we would. It was finally real to me."

"Peeta…that's so sweet. I really told you it was real?"

He nodded, pressing a soft kiss to my temple. "Yeah. I was so afraid that I would wake up and it would all be gone the next day. You used to laugh at me and joke that you weren't going anywhere but I just….couldn't believe you were really there with me. There were a lot of times when it was so good it didn't feel real. That became our thing to ask when things were great, or we were really happy. We'd say 'real or not real?' and the other person would say 'real'. That's how I knew how great my life was. Your answer was always 'real'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember to follow me on twitter (@TwilightCakes) for story updates and Q&A. I don't bite : )


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Hope

Peeta's explanation of 'real or not real' really floored me. We didn't say much after that, opting instead to stay wrapped in each other's arms under the thick blanket from the bottom of the bed. My mind was reeling with these new feelings and answers Peeta had given me. I was at the point where I'd give anything to be able to remember our first date again. It sounded so romantic that it made my heart clench in my chest. Normally I hated anything romantic or sappy – it made me roll my eyes and wrinkle my nose.

But Peeta explaining 'real or not real' to me? That I would happily listen to all day.

I fell asleep that night dreaming of what our first date was like. My head was still filled with cloudy, dreamy scenarios when the alarm went off and Peeta had to get up for work. Since he didn't work Saturday, he was due to work a Sunday. I vowed to ask him for more details about our first date someday.

He leaned over after his shower and kissed my cheek. I reached out for him blindly, swiping for him. I felt warm, slightly damp skin. I peeked out of one eye and saw that my hand was wrapped around muscled arm. He was kneeling down by the bed, digging through the dresser next to it for a clean pair of socks. He was naked except for a new pair of tightly fitting boxer briefs.

"Don't go…" I whined hoarsely.

Peeta grinned and flicked his wet head in my direction, making a few drops of water hit my cheek. I laughed sleepily and yawned.

"What time is it?"

"Quarter to four. Go back to sleep," he yawned.

"It's seriously that early?"

"The day is new. Baker's hours," he sighed, standing up. He pulled on the socks and clumsily stepped into his work khakis. I sat up and rubbed my eyes, sleepily watching as he pulled on a 'Mellark Bakery' t-shirt. His stomach muscles flexed as he pulled on the shirt, twisting slightly to shimmy into it. "I gotta go honey. Duty calls."

I raised one eyebrow and realized I was still naked from the night before. I purposefully let the blanket slip down slightly to show him, making him pause mid step on his way to the stairs.

"You're sure you have to go?"

Peeta swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly. His blue eyes grew a little fuzzy as we stared at each other, his mouth watering and my boob hanging out.

"I…I…there has to be bread," he pleaded, clenching his fists. We both laughed nervously despite our exhaustion and the early hour. "People will be angry if there isn't bread."

"Fine then. Even if I still do consider this hour of the day yesterday still, your day has begun," I groaned, flopping back down on the pillow. I covered myself with a pretend growl and laughed when he rushed to the side of the bed.

"I will make this up to you," he babbled, leaning down to grab my cheeks. He kissed me deeply, only wincing slightly at my morning breath. "I swear. God…you are naked, in my bed, and I am crazy. I have to go to work. Fuck," he grumbled, kissing me again.

"I'll still be here when you get back," I laughed.

Peeta kissed me again and shudder as he broke away. "Good. Ooohhh," he sighed, his minty breath blowing on my mouth. "I'd give anything to stay here in bed with you. You know that, right?"

I opened my eyes and nodded before pulling him back down again. We had one last lingering kiss before breaking apart.

"You're going to be late. Shame on you Peeta."

He groaned and kissed the tip of my nose before brushing his hands across the top of the blanket. I felt them clench slightly as he battled with himself, but duty won out. "I gotta go before I change my mind and don't open up today. Bye Katniss, I love you. Be back tonight."

With that, he fled from the loft and thumped loudly down the steps. The front door slammed seconds later and I was alone. I laid there for a few moments, my breathing somewhat labored from the kisses we'd exchanged. I closed my eyes and let myself remember the feel of his still warm, freshly cleaned skin, his minty breath, his wet hair, the throaty voice he used in the morning…

My eyes flashed open, suddenly wide awake. Peeta's words were suddenly echoing in my ear.

"Bye Katniss, I love you. Be back tonight."

I sat up in bed with a pounding heart. He said he loved me. Out loud. To my face.

But quickly. Did that still mean that he had meant it? I frowned. Had it just been a rushed thing, said out of habit and in passing?

No, that didn't make any sense. He hadn't said it directly to me since the hospital. Of course he hinted at it, but this was the first time he had said it to me with purpose.

I glanced at the clock beside the bed and realized it was four in the morning. He's exhausted. You were up half the night fooling around with him. Of course he's tired. He probably forgot and just said it. Ever since we agreed to start over, I figured that meant that the 'I love you' stuff was kinda…on the backburner. We were focusing on growing back together and getting to know each other as friends first, and eventually boyfriend and girlfriend. But…I realized that people in relationships had to say those three little words eventually.

Was this Peeta's way of telling me he really loved me or had it been an early morning mistake?

I lay back down on the bed for several hours but never did manage to sleep another wink.

"So…what are we doing again?"

Annie smiled at me as she handed me an extra plushy mat like the one she was holding. "Hot Yoga. Some people call it Bikram," she brightly explained.

I chewed my lip and nervously clutched the mat against my chest as we walked into the steamy room where the class was being held. When Annie had called me later that morning and asked me to go workout with her I had jumped at the chance to get out of the apartment. I didn't have work or anything to do that day and I knew I'd go nuts if I stayed in and did nothing. I had accepted her invitation to get some exercise more to have someone to talk to rather than to actually work out.

"Like…doing yoga in a hot room, apparently?"

"Yeah, like that," she laughed.

"What if I can't do it? I suck at….bending," I said in a low voice. I watched a woman on the other side of me bend into a position that should be illegal without even flinching.

"Just do what you can do and try your best," she laughed. "You're not being graded, Katniss. You liked it last time," she said gently.

I swallowed and nodded, rolling out my mat next to hers on the floor. The warm room did feel nice compared to the freezing cold weather outside, so I guess I didn't have anything to lose by at least trying this 'hot yoga' thing. If anything it might take my mind off of Peeta and what he had said to me that morning. I had been obsessing about it ever since.

"I take it you're on your own today?"

"Yeah, I don't work and Peeta does so I was just kinda…hangin' out at the apartment," I admitted. "Sad, right?"

"Better than what I was doing. I stayed up all night working in my studio and Finnick slept by himself. I haven't even made it to bed yet," she snickered lightly, twisting her arms behind her back.

I looked around awkwardly, wondering if I should be stretching. I did what she did best I could and tried not to make an ass out of myself.

"How is your um…art…going?" I asked awkwardly.

Annie grinned and nodded. "Good. You still want to come to my show in a few weeks?"

"Yeah, totally. I'd love to see it. Not very often I get a dose of culture."

"Well, it's more a hobby that happens to pay the bills," she admitted with a laugh. "Finnick insists I do it because he thinks it keeps me happy."

"Hey…why didn't you tell me we were friends? That night we went to dinner with you and Finnick?"

She shrugged, tucking her dark hair behind her ears so that she could pull it into a neat bun. "I figured you had enough on your plate. You're not mad, are you?"

"No, not at all I just…wondered," I said honestly, mirroring her actions. I tied my hair up to get it away from my already red face. The room was already sweltering hot and steaming and the class hadn't even started yet.

Annie shrugged as the rest of the class filtered into the small room. About five or six other women about our age came in and quietly rolled out yoga mats and sat down to wait. A few did some stretches while one girl looked like she was attempting to meditate. I glanced back at Annie.

"I just…wish you would have told me we were friends, I….I feel bad for neglecting you all these weeks. I've just…been trying to kinda reconnect with what I'm supposed to do…"

"How's that going?"

I laughed awkwardly, shrugging. "Fine. I mean…I guess. I love living with Peeta and he's great, but….the rest is still shaky. I'm never sure what I'm supposed to be doing or…or how to react to people that obviously know me and who I have no clue who they even are. It's confusing sometimes, I'll admit it. It's really frustrating. Sometimes I want to rip my hair out because I don't know how to act or what to say to make people feel at ease around me."

"I know what you mean," she muttered.

"Um…you do?"

"I'm bipolar," she explained. "I have been since I was a teen. I kinda understand what it's like to feel like a stranger in your own body sometimes."

"I'm…sorry?"

"Its fine," she assured me gently. "I take medication for it now, but I didn't understand why I was different as a teenager," she whispered. "That's when it surfaced. It's genetic, and I'm lucky; my brother is much worse than I am. For a long time I thought it was my fault that I couldn't just be the way everyone wanted me to be. People can be so mean, I….they called me crazy. But…I've learned to deal with it. I felt out of place and just wrong all the time. People kept telling me how I should act and feel and it was so frustrating to me that I didn't fit that mold. I didn't feel like myself in a lot of ways for a long time. I remember feeling so lonely and confused.

"I didn't get the help I needed because not a lot of people knew about the different types of the disorder," she explained. "I didn't know what was wrong with me. I know your situation is different but-"

"-But it's really not," I said quietly. "That's how I felt when I woke up in the hospital."

She nodded her wide brown eyes sympathetic. "That's why I didn't tell you we were already friends. Sometimes it's better…easier to have someone just listen and be there for you rather than tell you how you should feel or act. I don't understand firsthand what you're going through but…I can definitely sympathize."

I nodded, suddenly feeling a burning in the back of my throat as I fought the urge to not cry. "Thank you, Annie. I…that means a lot to me. If it makes you feel any better…they called me crazy too….when I woke up and didn't even know my own husband. But…I know I'm not. And neither are you," I added.

She grinned at me. "Well sometimes I guess life throws you a curveball and you can't always control your 'crazy'," she laughed.

"Did people really call you that? Crazy?"

Her small head bobbed as she leaned forward on her outstretched legs. "Yeah. My parents, even. When my little brother started showing the same symptoms they finally realized it wasn't just me, that something was really really wrong that wasn't in my control. We finally got help when I was sixteen and my brother was fourteen and things turned around from there."

"What do you mean?"

She moved into a new stretch. "I mean therapy, medication….education about my triggers. Certain things make my moods swing one way or the other."

"You mean like…if you see something you feel…bad? Um…I'm sorry to be so nosy, I shouldn't have asked that," I muttered, suddenly feeling rude.

She smiled warmly. "Katniss, it's not a secret. I'm not ashamed of it; it's not something I can help," she laughed. "I'm very open about it."

"That's…brave," I admitted. "I mean...you handle it really well."

Annie shrugged and continued stretching. "It took time. But to answer your question about triggers," she continued, "It can be that. Or even just seeing something that reminds me of the past can make me feel sad again. I had bouts of depression that would last for weeks until I realized what made me feel that way. But it goes both ways – seeing something that makes me feel happy can also help my mood and give me some control back. After I realized that, I picked up the pieces and carried on with things. You will too, Katniss," she said softly.

I bit by my happy tears as class started, silently thankful that I had a friend like Annie. If she could pick up her life and piece it back together, then so could I. Suddenly, I had an idea from something she said. What if she was right? What if seeing something sparked my memory? I knew it was a long shot, but I was willing to try it.

Just when I needed it most, hope had started to come from all directions.

After returning from yoga, I showered the sweat off my body and threw the damp clothes in the laundry. I had been skeptical of the class at first, but I had to admit it was relaxing and did make me work. I had joked with Annie that maybe if I did that every week I could continue to eat anything Peeta brought home. We had agreed to make it a standing date before parting. I needed more people like Annie in my life and I wasn't about to brush her off as just another person. The mild, gentle, wispy girl was my friend before my accident for a reason.

When she hugged me goodbye, I hugged her back this time.

I glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized I still had several more hours to kill before Peeta would be finished working. The last thing I wanted to do was hang around the apartment so I got dressed and scribbled him a quick note that I would be back soon. I bundled up as much as I could before hurrying down the steps. The sun would be setting soon but I wanted to take a quick walk before it got too dark. I needed to think and I did that best when I was in the woods. As happy as I was in my cozy little loft with Peeta, my heart still ached when I thought of the woods I loved so much. It had been months since I could remember being in them and I wanted to visit them before we got another big snow.

I jumped in Peeta's truck and let it roar to life, sitting on the cold vinyl until I could hardly feel my ass. When the engine finally started chugging reliably I backed it away from the back of the bakery and drove it away from town. We weren't far from some trails so I figured I would go there. After a short drive I threw the truck in park and made sure my cell phone was fully charged and snugly in my pocket before starting on one of the abandoned trails.

It was fall when I fell from the tree that fateful night. According to Peeta, it was one of the last warm days we had before the cold of winter settled in. When they found me unconscious hours later I was still slightly warm from my thick boots and snug hunting jacket. Peeta said my father's jacket had probably been one of the things that had saved my life by keeping me warm as the search parties had looked for me.

I shuddered at the thought of lying in the cold, dark woods alone for hours. Peeta must have been scared out of his mind when he found me crumpled on the ground. My heart ached at the thought of him finding me at the base of the tree, injured himself and panicking. Tears stung at my eyes and I tried to think of something else before I let them fall.

The snow crunched beneath my boots as I walked, trying to enjoy the late afternoon sunlight. It shone through the bare branches, dancing and weaving brightly. Every so often a blast of wind would shake the limbs, making the unpacked snow come falling down from them in a glittery shower. It was so beautiful I had to stop and watch as another gust made the snow whirl around me for a second before falling to the ground.

When the wind finally died down, I kept walking. I wasn't going to go far, just far enough to find what I was looking for. In a forest like this one, I knew it wouldn't take me long.

The need to see it was suddenly overwhelming.

I came to the base of the largest tree in sight, reaching my gloved hand out to touch it. It wasn't the same tree or even the same forest I had suffered my life-changing injury in, but the weight of it hit me like a wrecking ball.

The tears were difficult to blink back as I gazed up the wide trunk. They finally spilled over and poured down my cheeks making the icy wind bite at the streaks they left in their wake. I winced and wiped them away, sniffing to myself.

How was it possible that a fucking tree had changed so much for me? My fingers dug through my gloves into the bark, gripping it until I knew it was real.

Real.

What a word to have come to mind, I thought with a tiny laugh.

Real or not real?

My eyes shifted up into the tree, wincing at the bright light. How high had I climbed the night I had fallen? My fingers touched the grooves of the old oak tree in front of me as I had a harrowing, dark thought: what if I climbed up and fell again? Would it bring my mind back to me? What if I forgot the past few weeks had happened? Would that be worth getting all of the old memories back?

A shudder rolled down my back as I thought about what my own sick mind had just suggested. To be completely honest, I wasn't sure if I would trade it. . I thought that coming out here and seeing the tree would trigger something in my mind, but it didn't. If I had the choice, would I take back my fall if it meant giving up the past few weeks? The days leading up to this point felt like the foundation of my feelings for Peeta. Would I trade those feelings for a chance at the past?

"There's no magic lamp," I whispered to myself. I was playing a dangerous game of 'what ifs?' that I couldn't afford to play even if I wanted to. I needed to accept what was and be thankful for it. Memories of the past few weeks flashed through my mind, last night the most prominent one.

I didn't know whether to be happy or sad that I had fallen out of that tree that day. I had lost so much but I had also gained so much in return

I lost my life and everything that I held dear to me; my marriage, my security, and everything I knew to be true.

But…I had also gotten something in return. I was slowly getting my sister back. My mother. I had gotten Peeta back, and I was getting the chance to fall in love with him all over again.

I turned and slid down into a sitting position, my back resting against the stiff tree trunk. Fate had given me a chance to do it all over again. Was I a bad person for slowly accepting that? My memory wasn't back yet – I wasn't sure if it ever would be. I had slowly accepted that I might not ever get it back again. But the past few days had taught me that all was not lost. It was not an unhappy ending, nor was it a tragedy to forget my own husband. Peeta had been right to point out that we were both still alive and breathing and that was a lot more than some people had and for that I was very thankful.

He was still here, waiting for me. He still loved me. How much more proof did I need? I had fallen in love with him once and married him and I was falling in love for him again.

I gulped, wiping away another tear before it could sting my cheek. There was no more 'falling'. I had fallen. I think I had loved him all along for simply being him, but seeing this tree made me really realize that it was all definitely real.

Real.

I was in love with Peeta.

Now I just needed to tell him.

I grinned to myself, tilting my head back against the bark. My eyes stung from the tears and the bright light of the slowly setting sun as I stared up through the branches, but I didn't care.

I guess love did that to you.


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28: Those Three Words

I opened my eyes, wiping away the tears that still threatened to slide down my cheeks. It would be dark soon, and I didn't want Peeta to worry. I felt like had had probably done enough worrying about me to last him a lifetime. I stood up, my bones aching in protest from sitting still so long in the cold. My trek back to Peeta's rusty truck was short; my feet moved faster and faster until I was practically jogging up the trail. I made it back to the truck in record time, jumping inside and turning the key in the ignition. I pulled out my phone and sent him a quick text as I realized he was probably done with work by then and wondering where the hell I was.

As I said, last thing I wanted to do was worry him.

I went for a walk on the trails by South Bend. Be home in ten.

My phone buzzed almost immediately with his response.

See any trees?

Yes.

Did you stay out of them this time?

I grinned again and typed out a response.

I sure did. I'll be home soon.

I carefully maneuvered the icy streets, eager to see Peeta again but also wanting to be careful. I felt a little jinxed after everything I'd been through, so I wanted to make sure I made it back to him in once piece.

I was going to tell him how I felt.

My hands gripped the steering wheel as I weighed the decision in my mind. I parked the truck in the spot behind the bakery and sat there a minute. In the woods my decision had seemed brave, right, and the easiest realization I'd ever come to. Now that I was home and I was so close it was…real. Scary. Even if you loved someone with all your heart it was still terrifying as fuck to tell them that to their face for the first time. Adrenaline coursed through my body as I removed the keys from the ignition and took a deep breath. I could do this.

I wanted to do this. Peeta deserved to hear this – he's good. So good.

A person would have to actively try to not like Peeta. Falling in love with him had been effortless once I had finally let down my walls and let myself do it.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I hurried up to the front door and fiddled with my keys for a good thirty seconds before my shaky hands would cooperate. I flew through the front door of our apartment, my heart hammering in my chest.

I loved Peeta.

I really loved Peeta.

I had woken up to him weeks ago as a stranger and by just being his amazing own self I had fallen in love with him. How could I not though?

I wanted to prove it.

The three words resting on the tip of my tongue held the key to a turning point for us and I knew it. How could three little words do that much to a person?

His eyes darted up as I burst into the kitchen in a whirl of activity and cold air. He was at the counter, doing what I loved to see him do – baking. He was covered in flour from work, but didn't seem to mind as he pounded some dough against the wooden countertop with his thick fists. The tight white shirt he wore was riding up on the thick bands of muscles on his arm as he worked the dough, exposing a vein that ran up his bicep and into his shoulder that I suddenly wanted to lick. I felt my body tingle in response as my eyes took him in, drinking up the image of my sexy baker at work. His face lit up with his signature smile and I felt my stomach do another nervous flop.

"Hey you. Homemade Pizza ok for dinner?"

I could see his lips moving but I couldn't make out the words. Raw emotion bit at my insides, licking at every nerve ending and making me feel like I could fly as I tried to get my body to cooperate with what my mind wanted it to do. Focus. Talk. Tell him.

With strength I didn't know I had, I rushed over to him and pushed him against the front of the refrigerator. He hit the object with a soft thump and his jaw dropped open slightly in shock. I must have looked like a wild woman coming in and man handling him like that, but Peeta didn't seem to mind. His blue eyes instantly went from wide and innocent to dark and lusty as I held him against the cool steel.

"You're home. And wild," he noticed, placing his hands on my coat. He slid them up my arms, resting them on the still cold skin of my neck. His touch already had me reeling and I had to fight to stay focused.

I nodded, my eyes searching his. How did I say it? Did I just blurt it out?

"I missed you today…and….I went out into the woods and…I love you," I gasped, already running out of air from my trek up the stairs and my heavy confession. His eyes went wide before I closed my own and slammed my mouth against his in a desperate kiss. It took him a second to process my words. His lips were still against mine as I kissed him passionately, trying to convey and prove what I had just said. He stood there, pinned against the refrigerator like an unresponsive corpse as I kissed him.

I paused, my lips still awkwardly placed on his as I spoke. "Um…it's'shurturn to talk."

Peeta exhaled lightly as if he'd been holding his breath. I was standing so close to him that when I opened my eyes he was out of focus, but I could see his eyes fly open.

I broke away when I wasn't getting any response. "Well?"

He blinked, the lusty haze gone from his eyes. "You do?"

I nodded, suddenly feeling a bit silly. This morning had been a mistake; he obviously didn't realize he said it. I felt embarrassed but I knew I had to persevere. It was a form of self-sacrifice in his honor, I guess. Leaning back, I took in his shocked expression as I dropped my arms and freed him.

"I love you so much," I said quietly. "Do…..you love me too? Like y-you said this morning? Or…or did you mean that?"

Peeta's hand rose up to scratch the back of his neck as he did when he was thinking about something. "I…I thought about that. I didn't mean to say it, but….I mean I meant what I said but I didn't mean to just blurt it out like-"

"-Like I just did?" I laughed nervously. My palms itched as I rested them on his shoulders, trying to anchor myself. He did love me, he just hadn't meant to say it after all. "I'm an idiot."

He nodded bashfully and grabbed my hands from his shoulders. My eyes followed them as he lifted them up to his mouth and kissed my knuckles softly. "We've never been normal or traditional or any form of the word…..and that's the way I want to keep it. Blurt away."

"I love you," I repeated breathlessly.

I'll never forget (I hope) the look in his eyes as the next time he spoke.

"And I love you."

"Okay…so you do?"

Peeta barked out a laugh and nodded. "Yes, I do love you Katniss. It must have slipped this morning because I just…was overflowing with love for you," he joked. I shook my head and playfully smacked his arm.

We beamed at each other for a moment, just letting our words hang in the air. My frozen hands were slowly gaining some feeling back in them when he noticed I was still freezing cold.

"Crap, you're freezing!" he laughed, dropping my hands to rub my arms. I shrugged out of my coat and hat, dropping them to the kitchen floor.

"I'm cold but…" I trailed off, unable to say 'I want you to warm me up.' Instead, I grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the kitchen.

"Where are we going?"

I yanked his hand in mine, directing him up the stairs to the loft. He followed, but slowly. "Come on," I pleaded, pulling and tugging. When I finally got him to the top of the stairs, I wasted no time.

I had done enough of that.

My hands fumbled with the hem of his shirt before pulling it up over his head. Peeta gave me a wide eyed look through his mussed hair, his hands grabbing mine.

"Wait."

"No, no," I pleaded, pulling his face down to mine. He smelled like dough as I held his face firmly in front of mine. "No more waiting. I love you, this is right. What more do we need? You said it yourself; we have each other. Now please, let's just….be together," I said, dropping my forehead to his chest. I looked up to see Peeta shudder. My voice cracked with need and I saw something flash in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked, dipping his mouth down to mine. His lips ghosted against mine as he spoke, and I could tell he was thinking. I nodded, leaning in to close the millimeter sized gap between our mouths. He sighed against my lips as he kissed me. "What do you want?" his words were whisper soft as they left his mouth.

"You."

I kissed him again, feeling myself melt into him. It felt like we were sealing our words. I pulled away after a few moments and placed my hands on his cheeks.

"I want this. I want you. I'm sorry it took me this long, but this feels right. I would never regret this."

He nodded. That was what he needed to hear. He stood for a moment, just shirtless at the top of the stairs, watching me. It was like he wanted to move but couldn't; he was frozen in place. My hands slid down to his waist, gripping his pale skin until my fingers dug into it. "Please."

"I'm sorry I just….this is happening," he said happily, looking around the room. "This is happening," he repeated to himself. I grinned and inched back towards the bed, hoping he would follow me.

Peeta's face broke into a slow smile as he watched me. Ever the gentleman, he needed to know I was sure – which I was. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff and about to hurl myself off – it was exhilarating and scary and exciting at the same time.

"Katniss," he whispered, his voice heavy with emotion. Like a moth to a flame, he followed me to the bed until the backs of my knees were up against the mattress. He pulled me powerfully into his arms, cocooning me in his embrace. He needed me as much as I needed him. My breath caught in my throat as I leaned up and kissed him desperately. His mouth opened willingly as my tongue invaded it, eager for a taste. He met me in the middle, his own tongue moving to softly caress mine. I loved kissing him – he could be so aggressive and passionate, yet gentle and talented at the same time. A jealous woman would wonder where he had picked up such a skill, but in that moment I could only be thankful. I pressed myself into his body, eager for more. I could never get enough.

Peeta whispered my name again after breaking apart, running his hands down my arms and to the hem of my shirt. My name had never sounded so pretty. It made my body hum with so much anticipation I thought it might explode. In one motion, he ripped it up over my head and tossed it on the floor. I struggled awkwardly out of my sports bra, earning a few earnest snickers out of him as he watched.

"Hot."

"Shut up," I giggled, snapping myself on the elbow in the struggle to get it off.

"Well it is."

"Pants," I snapped in the middle of my struggle, looking pointedly at him. He laughed and began unhooking his belt, the metal clanging against the silence of the room. He still moved slowly, as if he was giving me time to think about what we were about to do. But my mind was made up.

Peeta Mellark loved me and I loved him back. That night, I would make him mine once again.

I kicked off my boots, pulled off my socks, and practically ripped my pants off before grabbing him and falling back onto the bed. We were a flurry of arms and legs and hands before he finally pinned me beneath him on the bed. I reached up for his face, pulling his lips down to mine. Peeta's hands ran up and down my body, seeming to memorize every single crevice and curve amidst our frantic rush. Every nerve ending sang and every hair on my body stood on end as he touched me; it was like I was coming alive again. As we kissed and touched and rubbed against each other I felt almost dizzy and had to laugh softly against the skin of his shoulder.

I was drunk with need for this man.

Peeta's hands held me down by my shoulders as his mouth latched to my neck. I felt his warm, flat tongue lick me between kisses before he moved down to my breasts. I let out a groan and smiled up at the ceiling.

"If you change…your mind…" he grunted between kisses, "we don't have to go all the way."

I arched my back as he drew one of my hard, aching nipples into his mouth. "Yeah right Mellark," I breathily replied.

He stopped his ministrations long enough to chuckle against my chest before continuing. I secretly hoped that we could be one of those couples that laughed during sex and had fun with it – Gale had always been so serious. Any funny face or noise that used to make me giggle during sex was taken as a huge blow to his ego and I didn't get that. Sex was hot and passionate but also funny at times too. I hoped Peeta felt the same way.

"This isn't high school. I'll still talk you in the hallway on Monday if you don't let me go all the way," he quipped, lightly pinching my side. Damn him, he knows I'm ticklish. I erupted into laughter and pulled his face up to mine.

"I'm sure."

We shared another grin and I knew then that he was really as perfect as he seemed. Perfect and all mine. He dipped down to press his mouth to mine in another feverish kiss as he continued where he had left off.

His hands on my body seem to stir the longing that rushed through my limbs. As things heated up, the joking was forgotten. I let my legs fall apart and helped him settled into the valley between them. We moaned in unison as he rubbed his length against my leg. I could remember how hot and thick and wonderful he felt in my hands the night before and I suddenly wanted him so bad I started to tremble. Peeta's head dipped down again to lavish my breasts with soft licks and kisses. Before long the teasing and sucking had me arching off the bed and moaning like a wanton harlot and he hadn't even touched me downstairs yet.

"Is this happening?" he whispered against my skin. He dragged his mouth up my chest and neck, letting his lips linger next to my ear. "Are we really doing this?"

"Yes," I breathed urgently. "Please, I can't wait. Foreplay later Peeta."

I had fantasized about this moment long enough. I wanted him and needed him and damn it, I would have him. Peeta looked down at me beneath him and we both smiled like we had a secret.

"I want to make this good…I…this is like our first time."

I nodded, staring up at him. "I know. First times can be…frantic."

He grinned before leaning down to kiss me again. This kiss was deeper and hotter and I could feel that he wanted me as much as I wanted him. His hands slid down my body as he balanced on his knees. He pushed his hardness against the apex between my thighs making both of us sigh with want. Our underwear was the only thing blocking us from bliss. His eyes flicked up to mind and I saw his jaw clench with anticipation. I gave a little whine to hopefully tell him to hurry the fuck up. I was done waiting, damn it.

Sensing this, he pulled down my underwear and tossed them behind him with a flourish. Leaning over, I watched them sail over the half-wall that blocked the loft from downstairs and laughed out loud. Peeta chuckled as well, pausing again to pull his own underwear off.

"We'll find those in the kitchen tomorrow," he laughed as he tossed his boxer briefs to the floor.

I glanced down, seeing his hardness waiting and ready and couldn't resist any longer. Peeta didn't protest as I shoved him over on his back and pinned him against the mattress. His bright smile told me he didn't mind my taking charge. We were completely bare and touching now, me just hovering over him, waiting to pounce. I lowered myself to rest lightly against his shaft, my wetness making him suck in a violent breath of air. His blue eyes were hazy as he grinned up at me with an anticipatory smile.

"We can go again after this, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You're confident in my abilities to recover I see?" he asked, clenching his jaw again. I chewed my lip and nodded. Not tearing my eyes from his, I reached my hand between us to touch him. He was so hard he was positively aching as I gripped him, running my hand over his length for good measure. Peeta threw his head back and arched against the bed in enjoyment as I touched him. I could almost feel the blood throbbing against the sensitive skin.

"um…condoms? Or…what do we use?"

His eyes opened slightly as he looked up at me. "You get the shot. You had one right before your accident. It doesn't wear off until January," he managed to groan as I touched him.

"Okay, but…we don't use condoms or anything?"

He gave me another look that told me he clearly knew something I didn't know. "We can if you want."

"But we usually don't?"

He shook his head and gave me a wobbly half smile. "We're married."

I laughed nervously and shrugged, shaking my head. "Just asking."

Reaching up, he pressed his palm against my cheek. "Your shot has always been dependable; we've never had a scare. It lasts until the third week of January, but if you want me to use a condom I can," he said genuinely. "It's fine babe, it doesn't bother me."

I trusted him. I had no idea I had gotten a birth control shot, but I knew Peeta wouldn't lie to me. If he said we would be fine, I knew we would be fine.

"Habit I guess," I replied awkwardly. He gave me a crooked smile and shrugged. "I don't need anything. It's fine."

"Okay."

Peeta gripped my hips as I lowered myself onto him. He filled me to the brink, stretching and throbbing blissfully within my walls. I threw my head back and gasped at the feeling of him filling me, suddenly overwhelmed. I rolled my head forward and let my hands fall forward onto his hard stomach to anchor myself. His hard stomach muscles clenched as he too grew used to our bodies being joined.

It was glorious.

"Oh God Katniss," he hissed through his teeth. He looked up at me with emotional, pleading eyes. "Don't ever leave me again."

I glanced down at him as I raked my hair away from my eyes. My hand went to touch his cheek as I leaned forward. "I can't. I won't. Never."

His hands on my hips gripped me harder suddenly, urging me to move. We both gasped for air as I rocked my hips slowly forward, savoring the feeling of him. I was already so wet and achy and tingly that I knew it wouldn't take either one of us long. Peeta's hips jutted forward, his length embedding itself even further. My body shook with a pleasurable tremor as I glanced down at him.

Jesus, he was magnificent.

His pale, wide chest contrasted beautifully against the dark red sheets of our bed, making his skin glow. The light hairs that were spread sporadically across his chest caught the dim light of the lamp beside the bed. The warm glow cast shadows across his chest and stomach, highlighting every curve, every muscle. His arms were taught and sinewy as he reached up to grip my hips with is strong hands. His pupils are dilated and his cheeks flushed, framed by a mop of wavy, messy blonde curls.

How he could be a shy, clumsy, bumbling baker one minute and then….that….I didn't know.

I shifted my hips against him, the friction already maddening. My body pushed me forward, craving more of it.

"Slow….slow down Katniss…I…I want to remember this," he whispered raspily. His voice caught in his throat as I squeezed my pelvic muscles and practically made him beg. "I don't want to mess this up," he panted. His grip on my hips tightened as he slowed our movements; I'd forgotten how strong he was. He held my hips in place and stilled my body on top of him as he stared up at me with pleading eyes.

"It's alright, Peeta, I just…"

"No, just wait. Let's slow it…down," he gasped. "As much as I want to fuck you…."

His vulgar word sent an excited jolt through me. "You want to fuck me?" I whispered, my voice cracking weakly.

He nodded slowly. "But I want to do that later. I want to make love now and…..fuck you later," he whispered up at me. His voice was raw with emotion and need as he looked up at me. I watched him lick his lips, the slick spit shining in the dim light. I felt myself grow even wetter as his words registered in my foggy mind. The intimate moment would be trapped in my mind forever – I didn't care how many trees I might fall out of in my lifetime.

I would always remember Peeta telling me he wanted to make love to me and then fuck me.

"Okay," I agreed shakily, my voice cracking. Because how could I say no to that?

Peeta's strong hands pushed me up and off of him, rolling over to give me a predatory little smile. I fell back against the sheets and watched as he slid between my legs like he was home again. He wasted no time guiding himself back into my awaiting heat. I couldn't remember feeling this full and happy and just fucking complete as Peeta pushed his hips flush with mine. The feeling of his body finally connecting with mine again was the most fucking exquisite piece of heaven I've ever experienced. He was as deep as he could go and it made my insides clench with happiness that we were finally joined that way.

"This is right," I whispered up at him. My words made him smile and he tenderly touched my cheek before lowering his lips to mine. We stayed there together for countless seconds, our lips and bodies pressed impossibly tight together before he finally moved. I gasped and felt my head get heavy on the pillow as he pinned me down.

This man knew how to love me.

Peeta leaned forward, one hand supporting his weight beside my head while the other cupped one of my breasts. He began to knead it softly, letting his thumb flick across the tip with each pass. Another groan slipped from my mouth as the feeling sent pleasant waves down between my legs. His hands worked wonders, I thought. I now knew how that bread felt being touched and moved like this all day and was briefly jealous. This man had me so worked up I was getting jealous of bread and pastries. I smiled against his shoulder as he thrust deeper and deeper with each pass. He continued to touch and caress me, his mouth firmly claiming mine.

I opened my eyes as he broke our kiss, his expression flooring me. I saw complete adoration reflected in his dark blue gaze as he lifted himself up slightly to change our angle of approach. I gasped softly and placed my hands on his wide, strong shoulders as I waited to see what he would do. It was strange really – I couldn't remember doing this with him before but it felt so natural. He continued to watch me as he moved, seeming to silently catalog all of the things that made me arch and moan. I guess he was watching to see if any of my preferences had changed; I wasn't sure. All I knew was that with every thrust and touch and caress I moved closer and closer to utopia.

"Say it again," he gasped, leaning down. His voice took on a needy, demanding tone. His lips attached to my neck, licking and sucking and letting his teeth scrape gently along the soft skin.

"I love you Peeta."

He sighed in contentment, his free hand moving behind my thigh to lift it up. The new angle sent me soaring. My hands slid up his chest, over his neck and up to finally cup his cheeks. "I love you so much. I…"

His purpose filled thrusts made me temporarily lose control of my mouth. My jaw fell open in sheer enjoyment, my back arching up off the bed. Peeta grunted and moved above me, the sensation quickly becoming overwhelming. Any doubts I'd had about our sex life pre-accident flew out the window as I realized we had definitely had time to perfect this act. I watched the muscles in his stomach flex as his hips jutted forward against mine, filling the loft with a soft slapping noise. My insides clenched wildly around him as my body crawled towards release. My hips rose up off the bed to take more of him, my legs falling wider. Peeta reacted to the new access, his blue orbs stretching wide to show his enjoyment. A delicious friction started to burn between us, sparking until it was a full on flame. His fingertips grasped my thigh, pulling it higher around his waist as he sunk himself into my depths again and again.

It could never be enough, I realized.

My mind went back to the deepest corners, separating from my blissed out body. I searched and searched for any trace or mental image that we've been this way before, but I can't seem to conjure anything up. How did we ever stop this before? How did we ever get out of bed or even leave each other to go to work? I loved this man hovering above me and I couldn't imagine ever wanting to be without him. I stared up at him as he moved, watching the way he made love to me. He poured every ounce of himself into it, taking the time to make it special and beautiful just like everything else he did. I could feel his manhood swell inside my walls, seeking release but holding back. Sometime in the near future I decided I didn't want him to hold back.

But not today.

There would be time for the wild, sweaty, passionate antics that came with sex-crazed lovers. But Peeta was right – we needed it this way first.

Today was different; it was ours. It was a gentle reclaiming and reassurance that we really belonged together.

The sounds coming from our lofted bedroom were quiet but that only made the occasional groan or gasp more meaningful. There was nothing showy or faked between us, of that I was positively certain. We were meant to be together this way.

What happened in the past fell away as I watched the beautiful man with the kind eyes and good heart lose himself with me.

We were finally whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh the feels.
> 
> Love to PhantomSerenity for her beta-ness. Thank you my dear.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you guys thought of these two finally getting to it ; )
> 
> That said, I'm considering writing a few drabbles for NIOF in Peeta's POV. They're going to be short, 1k word bits and I'm taking requests. Any scenes you'd like to see in Peeta's perspective? It's up to you guys.
> 
> Remember to follow me on Tumblr and Twitter! I post fun things : )
> 
> Please review and have a fantastic week! *muah*


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29: Calm Before The Storm

When Peeta goes tumbling over the edge into ecstasy, the look in his emotional blue eyes is enough to sate me for the rest of my life. If the love conveyed in his gaze during that moment was the last and final picture my eyes saw here on earth, I would be fine with that. Utter devotion seeped from his pores, covering me in a cocoon of stability in the rocky landscape that had been the last few months.

He rolled off of me as we both came down, panting wildly. Even though it was slow and passionate we had managed to work up a sweat. I liked it. His head tilted to the side to catch my eye and we both slowly broke into a matching pair of shit eating grins.

"Wow," I laughed. His grin turned slightly smug as he watched me.

"Yep."

I sighed up at the ceiling, the cool air of the loft making my skin rise up in sudden goose bumps. "Is it always like that?"

He could only smile. "This is now, Katniss."

"Right."

He wanted to stay in the present as I had asked so many weeks ago and I had to respect that. I had a hunch I knew anyway. There was no way we had learned mind-blowing sex like that overnight, but I had a feeling things had been like this more than once. Gale didn't once slip into my mind because what we had just done wasn't even comparable to anything else I'd ever experienced. We laid there in silence for a long time, just catching our breaths. I reached my hand over and hooked my pinky with his in a reassuring grasp after a while and looked at him again. I brushed a sweaty strand of hair away from his eyes and watched him watch me.

I held his gaze and smiled. "Real or not real?"

Peeta chuckled softly, his breathing still a little labored. He gripped my pinky harder and flashed me a bright smile in the dim light. "Real."

We stared at each other, the words settling into the thick air around us.

This was real.

Whatever we had in the past was a nice memory, but this – this was real.

"Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," I murmured.

"Well…" he paused, "when you woke up in the hospital and didn't remember me, I came home that night and just panicked. I knew I had to get you to fall in love with me again somehow….I was so desperate. I knew I had to prove to you that I could love you and that you could love me again."

"Well, mission accomplished I'd say."

"Right, well…I just remember worrying that even if I did make you love me again that it wouldn't be like what we had before. Like what we had before all of this went down."

"Are you worried I'll never remember?"

He shrugged. "It's crossed my mind, but nights like tonight make me not care. I love what we have and…it's like it was before," he added softly. "But this is the now. We need to live in the present…I guess I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, it's okay. The more time that goes by I….it crosses my mind that I'll never remember. That was why I was in the woods earlier. I was just out there, thinking to myself that I might never get it back and I was finally okay with it."

"You go to the doctor this week."

"Right. So no use worrying yet, right?"

He nodded. "One step at a time."

I gave him a tiny smile as I leaned over to press my lips to his. He kissed me softly, his free hand cradling my cheek and holding me to him. I fell back onto the bed with a sated grunt, my side pressed against his. Peeta's eyes met mine and he stared at me lovingly for a few moments, watching my face.

"I'm fine with the 'now' if you are." Peeta released my pinky and gently pulled me to hover over him. I straddled his hips, resting against his abdomen as I leaned down on my elbows. I let my nose touch his as we sat there, just the two of us together.

"Real," I repeated softly.

He nodded. I could feel him growing hard again against my ass. We both glanced down and saw that he was soon ready to go for round two.

Peeta reached up again and touched my cheek. "I need you so much Katniss. You know that don't you?

I could only nod. Before I knew it, his hands were again on my hips and I was being forced up off his stomach. My eyes flicked up with his as he removed his hand from my hip to lightly grasp himself and line up with my entrance. He lifted his hips and impaled himself in me and my eyes instantly fell closed.

If what I wanted earlier was the quick, hard, fuck, then that is what Peeta gave me. His hands dug into my thighs as he pulled me forward against him, creating a delicious friction on his lap that increased with each passing second. Within minutes I was panting on top of him as we both came, collapsing into each other with a tired grunt. I was spent, but it was the best feeling ever.

"Real," he repeated, kissing my matted, wild hair before letting his head fall back onto the sheets. I smiled as I drifted off to oblivion.

I twirled a little in front of the full length mirror, smiling at my reflection. I'd never worn anything strapless before that I could remember, and I found myself wondering why. While I didn't love my whole entire body, I did have nice arms and shoulders from apparently using a bow all the time before my accident. Hauling ice and cases of beer around at Abernathy's had to help as well, I figured. The floor length dress was black and form fitting, flaring out slightly as it go closer to the floor. The sweet heart neckline helped enhance my bust and actually gave me some lift, and I did like the simpleness of it.

Prim stood behind me, studying the black bridesmaid's dress she had selected for me to wear with scrutiny. Her head was tilted to the side as she rested her lips on the rim of her champagne glass. Her wedding was still taking place on New Year's Eve at the Hawthorne mansion, and she had asked me to be a bridesmaid at Thanksgiving. I hated being put on display like that, especially after the year I'd had. But, she had begged and I had said yes to pacify her and end the seemingly bitter war between us. Things were better now and I wanted to keep them that way.

"I like the lines," she hummed softly with a dazed look.

I frowned at her in the reflection. "What does that even mean?"

Prim gave me a haughty look before she put down her glass and tightened her robe. I did another little twirl in the mirror and grinned at my own reflection. I liked what I saw, and it was a three way mirror. How often did that happen?

"You're awfully…smiley. Giggly," Prim noticed. "What's with you? You look like the cat that got the canary."

"Nothing is 'up' with me. And who says I didn't?" I quipped.

Prim shrugged again. "You just look…different. Something is up with you."

"No there isn't," I insisted.

She gave me a strange look in the mirror. I could tell she was tiptoeing around me; she wanted information, but she didn't want to start shit with me either. I wanted to tell her about my shift in my relationship with Peeta, but at the same time I worried how that would look. Would she run back and tell Gale? Even though we had patched things up a bit between us I still wasn't sure what my sister was going to do with the information once I gave it to her. There was tension between Peeta and Gale, especially at Thanksgiving. They had tried to push it away and play nicely but it was practically palpable between them. Ideally I'd be able to trust my sister, but I still wasn't sure if I wanted to. Things were finally going smoothly and I didn't want to rock the boat when the waters were calm, so to speak.

"How's Peeta?"

I couldn't stop the smile that appeared on my face at the mention of his name. "He's great. Amazing, actually," I murmured. "You're sure this is the dress you want me to wear? I'm open."

"Oh shut up, you love it I can tell," she laughed. "You hate dresses and that one is actually making you smile. We're getting it."

"I have money."

"No, I asked you to be in my wedding; I'm not going to make you pay for the dress."

"Prim, I work now and-"

"-it's a six hundred dollar dress, Katniss!"

I gaped a little and grabbed the price tag. Six hundred dollars? Who in their right mind owned a six hundred dollar dress that was simply for being in a wedding?

"Its fine, Katniss. Rory can afford it."

"His dad can."

"So? He said I could buy whatever I wanted and I intend to. I'm only going to have one wedding," she pointed out. "Let me do this for you. You love it and I love it and you look like a dream in it. I want to do this," she said again.

I sighed and stared at my reflection. It was a pretty dress. For a split second I could almost understand why Prim was so easily ensnared by the opportunities and luxuries that money could give her. It was slightly intoxicating to not even look at a price tag as much as I hated to admit it.

"If you want me to wear it, I'll wear it."

"Oh yay!" she clapped giddily. "It looks nice. Makes you look taller."

"I don't need to look taller," I shot back, eyeing her in the mirror. My hands fingered the soft material at my sides, admiring the way it hung on my hips. She took another sip of the complimentary champagne we had been offered at her final dress fitting and shrugged.

"I forgot Peeta was a lot shorter than Gale."

"Prim…"

"Well he is! I wasn't trying to say anything. He's shorter than Gale – there! That's what I was trying to say."

"It's not a competition," I muttered, smoothing out the skirt with my palms. It was the most beautiful, elegant dress I'd ever worn. If Prim wanted to buy it for me, then I'd let her. But only because it was her wedding, I told myself. And I looked damn good in it.

I couldn't wait for Peeta to see me in it.

A woman came scurrying back from the front office of the little bridal boutique we were in, apologizing for the wait. Prim took the dress into the little mirrored room and was promptly laced into her princess like, white puffy gown. She emerged minutes later with a huge smile.

"Well?"

I covered my mouth with my hand and gasped. The white dress, her pale skin and her blonde curls made her look like an angel. "Prim," I cried, "You look amazing."

She beamed and twirled around, admiring herself in the mirror. "Isn't it the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen?"

"Actually, yes," I smiled, reaching out to touch it. The tulle skirt was the softest I'd ever felt, making it look like she was surrounded by a cloud. The white, jeweled bodice made her look like a doll, tucking in at her waist and scooping down in a sweetheart neckline to match the dress I was wearing. They complimented each other perfectly.

Prim motioned me over to stand beside her, and looped her arm around my waist. I leaned my head on her shoulder and did the same, staring at our reflection. Even though our skin tones and hair and eyes were different, we both had our father's chin and eyebrows and our mother's straight nose and high cheekbones. Standing next to each other, we finally looked like we were actually related.

"See? You need the dress. We finally look like sisters."

I eventually had to take off the dress and get back into my regular clothes, for I had to work the afternoon shift for Haymitch. Still buzzing from my two glasses of champagne from the dress fitting, I breezed into the bar and got to work. Peeta was working late that night; he was showing Rue and Thresh how to make up the dough for the special Christmas Schnitzbrot bread that everyone ordered before the holiday. Apparently his variation of it was a family secret, so it was serious business that he was showing them how to make it. They were planning to make up pounds and pounds of the dough that night as Christmas drew closer. That way, they could bake several batches a day and not have to worry about mixing up more of the complicated recipe.

I couldn't stop smiling to myself and thinking about the night before. Sex with Peeta was jaw dropping, toe curling, nails-in-the-mattress fun, and I couldn't wait to do it again. I was sure I'd tackle him the moment he walked in the door. I yearned for someone to talk to about our new step, but I decided I was right not to tell Prim. Things were finally settling down within our family and the last thing I wanted to do was stir them up again right before the holidays.

Instead, I busied my antsy hands with mundane tasks while the bar was slow; wiping down tables, mopping the bathrooms, and refilling the ice. My mind kept flashing back to Peeta the night before and I could see him hovering over me, kissing me, touching me. I paused for a second, trying to snap back to reality as I wound the wet towel between my hands. If I kept thinking about Peeta like that I was going to attack him the moment I saw him. That wasn't a bad thing necessarily, but he wouldn't be home until much later. The day dragged by with only a few customers here and there and I felt like it would never end. Suddenly, I had an idea. I knew who I could talk to.

Annie picked up the phone right away. "Katniss?"

"Hey, yeah, it's me," I said breathlessly. "Are you free tonight? I get off at seven. Maybe um…go bend and stretch in a hot room again?" I asked hopefully. I winced at how lame I sounded, but I needed girl talk. Desperately.

"You wanna do yoga again so soon? I thought you'd still be recovering," she laughed lightly into the phone. I turned around to make sure everyone at the bar had a full drink before resuming our conversation.

"Yeah, well…would you mind if we just like…got drinks or something? On second thought I am still…a little sore," I winced. It wasn't a total lie - I was a little sore but it certainly wasn't from the Bikram yoga. It was from getting reacquainted with the sexual side of my husband and boy did he have one. We had gone another round that morning and I suspected we would have gone for a second but he had overslept. My ass had been dragging at all day but I couldn't find the energy to care. I did however, want to discuss my newfound discovery with someone, and who better than Annie?

"Sure! There's a great little bar around the corner from your place. And no, it's not Abernathy's."

"Good," I laughed. "I um….I need some girl talk. Is that…okay?"

She laughed. "Of course. I've been dying to ask you about Peeta, but I'm trying to be polite here. I'm guessing it's about him?"

I cleared my throat and shifted my weight. "Um…it is, yeah."

"Good," she said firmly. "It's about time. I'll get dressed and meet you down at that bar, ok?"

"Perfect, I'm off in twenty. I'll see you there." I hung up the phone just as Haymitch walked in the door to take the evening shift.

"How's it goin sweetheart?" he asked. Haymitch was the only person alive to say the word 'sweetheart' and yet not make it sound like a term of actual endearment.

"Fine I guess," I offered, mechanically reaching for his glass tumbler of choice. "On the rocks, or am I just humoring you?"

"You're a funny gal," he said, pointing at me. Haymitch was also the only functioning alcoholic I'd ever met. He could bartend from six too midnight and keep up with the best of them from his spot behind the bar, but who was I to begrudge him? It was his bar and he did the books. If he was losing money by being a drunk bartender he had no one to blame but himself.

"Right." I pulled the bottle from behind the bar and poured a gracious amount into his glass. I slid it over to him and watched as he greeted it like an old friend, curling his weathered fingertips around the curved tumbler as it moved across the worn wood of the bar. He pulled it to his lips and took a sip that was bordered on gulping. Relief flooded his vibrant blue eyes, and I realized this was the most sober I'd probably seen him.

"You're sure you okay to bartend tonight?"

He shrugged. "I only live upstairs. How much damage could I possibly do?"

"Good point."

"Takin care of that boy?" he asked. I glanced up as I refilled another patron's drink, reaching down to the ice tray.

"Peeta?"

"You see a lotta other boys?"

"He's fine," I snapped.

Haymitch narrowed his eyes at me as he walked around the wooden post and joined me behind the bar. "Relax. Who do you think lives in the apartment next to you? I believe we have the distinct honor of sharing a bedroom wall," he lolled softly, pulling his lip over his teeth to sneer at me. His bright eyes danced as he made his way to the drawer with the books.

"Sick," I groaned. "Um. Sorry?"

He rolled his eyes and pulled out the worn leather binder with his checkbook and all of the bills and began going through it. He kept one hand on his glass, let's not be silly. "Don't worry about it. I'm usually either here or passed out. There's a few seconds of awareness before my head hits the pillow, and…I guess I just caught you two in a moment last night before I blacked out."

I chewed my lip and walked the drink down the bar to deliver it before returning. "You could get help you know. With that," I said, gesturing to the glass.

Haymitch raised a blonde eyebrow in amusement. "I could. But then what would I do with my free time?"

I shook my head and wiped my hands on the towel hanging from my belt loop. "Forget I said anything. You run your own life."

"That's very true."

"Sorry you heard us. We'll be quiet."

Haymitch hooted suddenly with laughter, making me jump as I clocked out. "You don't have to worry about that Sweetheart. Just give that boy what he's been diligently waitin' for!" he chuckled. "Kid deserves it for putting up with you. Make all the racket you want, this old drunk don't care."

I eyed him suspiciously. "As gross as it is in the first place that you heard us….thank you, Haymitch."

He raised his glass at me as I pulled on my coat, not bothering to answer.

Ten minutes later, I found myself down the street at another little hole in the wall bar. It was a lot like Abernathy's; worn floors, wobbly stools, and only slightly trendier drinks. I ordered a dirty martini and sat patiently waiting for Annie.

As I lifted my glass to my lips and took a drink, I noticed a man across the bar giving me a look. I swallowed and set the glass back down on the counter, my eyes nervously darting away. I hated being flirted with in bars. It just seemed to cliché and random and wrong. He continued to make eye contact at me and make me edgy, prompting me to take another nervous drink. When I looked back at him, he was staring at my hand with a strange look. He offered me a friendly smile and turned his attention back to the game.

Weird, I thought. I didn't have much time to give it any thought, for Annie came hurrying through the front door of the bar and made a beeline for my table.

"You look excited," I laughed. She peeled off her scarf with a flourish and gave me a bright grin.

"Well how could I not? Like I said, I just…I've been being nice and not asking you about Peeta but I'm dying to!"

"Fine, fine. What do you want?"

"What are you having?"

"Dirty martini."

"Oh, make it two. I love those."

We ordered her a drink and I glanced at the weird guy again.

"What are you looking at and horribly pretending not to?" she asked, licking her lips as her drink arrived in front of her.

"That guy across the bar. He was starting at me and then he just…stopped. It was so weird," I admitted. "I hate guys in bars."

Annie sputtered a little as she sipped her drink. "Okay…well did he see your wedding ring? You're drinking with your left hand. He was probably trying to flirt with you until he saw that little sucker," she pointed out, pressing on the gold band adorning my finger. I put down my martini and held out my hand, my eyes resting on the woven gold band I had forgotten was even on. The little woven ring matched the ring Peeta wore and I rarely thought of it. The smooth, worn metal was comfortable to wear so I never took it off.

"I…totally forgot I had that on – you think so?"

She nodded. "All guys do that. Flirt with girls until they realize they're married. Speaking of married how's Peeta?"

"Good," I laughed, nervously tucking my hair behind my ears. I was suddenly a little nervous to talk about him but this might be my only chance. "Really good, actually. Spectacular."

Annie sipped her drink and raised a dark eyebrow at me. "Spectacular, eh? That's not a word I hear a lot. Do tell."

"Well," I stared, nervously twisting my cocktail napkin, "we….had sex."

I looked over at Annie who said nothing, only stopped in mid-sip to give me an expectant look. "And…"

"And nothing. Well…we had sex a few times, actually. Last night and…this morning."

"That's allowed, Katniss. You're married."

"Well yeah but I don't know it just….we finally did it and it was just…yaaaah," I said nervously, bouncing my leg on the barstool.

Annie nodded happily. "Okay. Was…was it good?"

I burst out into a nervous laugh and took another gulp of my martini. "Yeah, it was actually. It was very good. Um…I don't know why I was so nervous to say it out loud, but I was…"

"It's alright. Had you….well was this the first time?"

"Well…for me it was," I admitted. "With Peeta. I mean it felt like my first time with Peeta since I don't remember anything before the accident with him in it. I….it was really nice."

"Well good for you," Annie laughed. "I was wondering when you'd get around to it. Finnick keeps pestering Peeta about when it was gonna happen again and I kept telling him that it's none of his damn business, but you know how Finn is. So damn nosy."

"How are things with you and Finnick?" I asked, drawing the attention away from my sex with Peeta. I didn't want her to think that was all I wanted to talk about.

"Oh…fine. We've been together for a while now and…Finnick is so hard to read. He's intense and I love that about him but sometimes I just worry."

"About what?"

She shrugged. "I'm me, ya know? Just boring old me. Nothing too exciting and he's…well, you've seen him. He's a six foot Adonis! I don't know, sometimes I just worry he'll get bored and move on. He wasn't one for serious relationships before he met me. I don't know what to expect with Finnick sometimes. Everything is a curveball."

I sighed and sipped my drink. "I think he's head over heels for you and I've only seen you together once," I admitted. "But any guy would be lucky to have you Annie."

She gave me a tiny smile. "This is only the third time you've 'met' me," she reminded me. "I'm boring. Literally the weirdest thing about me is my art and that's just….it's eccentric but not exciting."

"Finnick said your art was amazing! I can't wait to see it; we're coming to your gallery opening next week."

"Seriously?"

I nodded. "Of course."

"Thank you. I'll need some support, I'm already nervous."

"I would be too. But then again, my most extensive art project was, like, a Popsicle stick birdcage in the third grade," I laughed. She burst into giggles beside me, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"I'm glad you're coming," she finally said, covering my hand with hers. "And I'm glad the old Katniss is back."

"Old?"

She nodded. "You're you, even if you don't realize it Katniss. You're still you. It's good to have my friend back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a new Valentine's day story - 'Arrows and Cupids' - be sure to check it out! It's Everlark and kinda fluffy/angsty. If that's possible.
> 
> Thank you PhantomSerenity for beta-ing!
> 
> This chapter was 'The Calm' and the next few chapters are 'The Storm'. Pretty excited for the next few chapters!
> 
> I'm also still taking suggestions for Peeta's POV of whatever scenes you guys want. I'm compiling a list of reader suggestions - they will be posted as a series of one-shots when NIOF is complete. So keep sending those suggestions! None of the topics will be my own - readers only.
> 
> Links to my blog, twitter, and Tumblr on my profile page. Love you guys!


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30: When It Rains

Peeta and I spent the next few days with each other just kissing, touching, and reacquainting. It was like we'd discovered a new toy that we couldn't stop playing with. Several times a day we would touch or kiss just innocently and would end up in our bedroom, ripping up a neatly made bed. I knew we shared a wall with Haymitch, but more than once I forgot and he ended up pounding on the other side of the brick wall with something metal. He'd scream and us to 'keep the nooky sounds to a dull roar' and we'd dive under the covers and laugh. I think we were determined to ride out the bliss we'd discovered together that first night and were unwilling to go back to reality.

However, reality did not have the same feelings as the two of us.

I'd had more flashes. They had been happening again and again the past few days and I was honestly scared. I didn't know what they meant or how they were triggered, but they kept happening.

It was deja vu…but not quite. I'd be doing something simple like brushing my hair or slipping on my boot and I would get this weird flash or snippet of myself doing that task before. But I'd have a temporary moment of clarity where I'd know things instead of wonder them. I couldn't explain it because I didn't understand it myself. They were just flashes anyway – nothing to be excited about. Bits and pieces of my old life trying to unsuccessfully worm their way into my mind from before my accident. It was like the old me was waving a flag in some dark recess of my mind, but the new me just wouldn't turn her head and look. I'm sure I had more bruises and bumps hidden in the dark corners of my brain that would never heal, and maybe this was their way of making themselves known. It was like they were protesting the sheer fact that I'd forgotten them.

I almost told Peeta several times, but what would I say? And what if he turned out to be nothing? I couldn't bear to get his hopes up only to crush them, so I kept the flashes to myself. They were just snippets my brain showed me to tease me and get my hopes up, so why would I do the same to him? It didn't seem fair to tell Peeta what was going on. It would only crush him.

That was a decision I would grow to regret.

A lot.

I was standing in the downstairs hallway that morning, tying the end of my braid with an elastic as I gazed at the wall of pictures. Ever since I'd made my pact with Peeta to not dwell on the past I had avoided staring at pictures for hours like I had in the beginning. I'd stare at the girl in the photos, feeling a disconnect with her and frustrating myself beyond belief. Staring at old pictures didn't get anything accomplished; it only frustrated me and made me feel stupid for not being able to remember my own memories. So, I'd avoided the exposed brick hallway that was littered with memories of my old life.

Except for the strange brain flashes I'd been getting I was basically happy with my life.

Today though, I stopped for a moment as I finished getting ready and gazed at the center portrait – the wedding picture- and studied it for a moment. This was the picture I'd tearfully admitted to Peeta I wanted to embrace again. I wanted to be the grinning version of myself that had been captured in that photo. A tiny grin stretched across my face as I looked at her smile and then looked at my smile in the reflection of the glass. They were the same one.

I watched as Peeta walked up behind me, freshly showered and shaved in his towel. His arms wove around my middle as he rested his chin on my shoulder and gazed at the picture with me. I could feel his warm, damp skin against the skin left exposed by my t-shirt. I could see his reflection in the glass of the picture frame.

"You looked handsome," I murmured.

"Looked? As in past tense?"

"Fine, still do. But you're very handsome in this picture."

"And you're beautiful. What's your point?"

I smiled again and kissed his cheek. "Nothing. I guess I just…I finally feel like that girl again," I sighed, turning around in his arms. "So thank you."

He nodded and kissed the tip of my nose. "Don't mention it. Now…we gotta go talk to Cinna today. You sure you want me to tag along?"

"Ah yes, the head doctor," I laughed. "Yes, I want you there for sure."

His blue eyes searched my face. Amazing as my poker face was, he was somehow able to gauge my feelings of underlying anxiety. "You scared?"

I shrugged and had to look away. "Maybe a little. It's been over two months and I don't….I…."

"You think-"

I put my finger over his lips and shook my head. "Let's just wait and see what he has to say, shall we?"

Peeta nodded and hugged me from behind, his strong arms wrapping around my middle. I took one last look at the girl in the picture and sighed. I might not be her anymore, but I at least felt like her.

We still had some time to kill before I needed to be there, so we simply decided to lounge on the couch. Even Buttercup, who rarely did anything that could be labeled as 'cuddling' sat on the coffee table opposite us and stared at us with his orange eyes. I was slowly understanding why he was my cat – other than the occasional pat on the head and his daily cup of meow mix he basically kept to himself. He wasn't needy. I could respect that.

"So Annie's gala is next weekend. You want to go with me?" I asked him as I put my head in his lap. His fingers ripped the fastener out of my braid and he grinned when I growled in frustration.

"Sorry…habit," he admitted with a chuckle. "The gala? Yeah. I say we go – Annie's stuff is amazing, actually. I give it a few more years before it takes off, but…she's wonderfully talented. I wish I had an ounce of the vision she has."

I reached up and cupped his cheek with my hand, feeling the scratchy traces of a few hairs along his jaw. "You do. You just put all of your muse and creativity into things like cupcakes and pastries. Which, in my opinion are better. I can't taste her art."

"No, but your eyes can appreciate it."

"Yeah, but also can't put cream cheese on it, so…"

"Point taken. So we'll go to the gala. I'm glad you two have kinda…found each other again."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "At first I wasn't sure if you two would hit it off – she's kinda quiet until you get to know her, and you're just….well, you don't usually have patience for the meek."

I laughed. "Very true."

"But Annie just…got you. She got Finnick too. He always says she snuck up on him."

"That's lovely," I admitted. "But I can't see Finnick settling down anytime soon. He's great but so….unbridled, I guess."

Peeta peered down at me with a curious gaze. "What makes you say that?"

"Well….wait, you won't tell him I said this, will you?"

"Cross my heart."

"Well, Annie said he just seems like he's losing interest. Gah, I really don't want them to break up. I like spending time with her and if the four of us are still friends…that'd be weird."

Peeta gave a little snort. "I think it will all work out."

"I hope so. She's such a sweet girl. Lord knows she listened to me ramble on about you the other day."

"Oh yea?" he asked.

"Yeah. We had girl talk. I spilled the beans about…you know," I admitted sheepishly.

Peeta shrugged. "I hope you at least did me justice woman. If you're going to spill all my secrets, at least make them good."

"Oh they were, I sang your praises over dirty martinis while a man leered at me from across the bar. I talked rather loudly about how good the sex was."

"He clearly wanted what he couldn't have."

"Very true. But Annie pointed out that he saw my wedding ring and he stopped looking. I was a little disappointed."

"Well who wouldn't be?" Peeta played along. "It's nice to be leered at every once in a while."

"I leer at you. Just the other day-"

"-I know you did, I know," he chuckled. "You do plenty of leering at me."

"Right. Well, anyway…he saw my ring and stopped."

"A gentleman, clearly."

"Right."

Peeta grinned down at me and ruffled my loose hair. "I think we've stalled enough. It's time to go see Cinna."

"Do I have to?" I groaned.

He nodded. "We should go see your mother too."

I sat up suddenly and gave him a curious look. Buttercup, annoyed with all the movement, yowled and hopped off the table to scurry away. "You'd go there with me again? Willingly?"

"Of course I will. You're going to meet my mom at Christmas, so….I'll owe you several after that."

"Deal."

I twisted the hand in my lap over on its side, squeezing the fingers until I felt them throb as I waited for Cinna to speak. Beside me, Peeta coughed softly and pulled his hand out of my firm grasp.

'Sorry', I mouthed. Shit, I was nervous. I had been pretending not to care what Cinna had to say but I knew I couldn't hide my nerves much longer. He was busy looking at scans of my fucked up brain – how could I not be at least a little jumpy?

'It's alright,' he mouthed back, squeezing my hand. I swallowed roughly and watched as Cinna studied the x-rays in his hands, holding them up to the light and peering at them inquisitively like he would a piece of art.

I coughed and looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

Cinna turned back to us, swiveling in his chair and giving a little shrug. He was dressed in a suit and button down shirt that day; it must not be a day he was doing rounds. He looked more fashion model than head doctor as he leaned across his desk and regarded me.

"You seem nervous."

"I am nervous."

"I've looked at these several times since we took them," he began, "And I don't see anything wrong."

I sighed in relief. "So….I'm fine?"

The golden eyed doctor looked at me calmly and shrugged. "You're fine."

I eyed him curiously, shifting in my seat. "What do you m-mean 'fine'? I still can't remember anything. I don't call that fine."

Cinna sighed and leaned forward on his desk again, placing the x-rays down in front of me. "You're healed, alright? That much I do know. What happened to your brain is a mystery. One that I'm afraid we don't have the technology yet to understand. I can't tell you why you can't remember anything Katniss. Do you want my honest opinion?"

I felt Peeta tense beside me. "Yes, yes I do."

His gaze darted between us before settling on the x-rays. "It's my medical opinion that if you haven't regained any memories yet…at this point…then the chances of you regaining any are slim to none."

I exhaled slowly, squeezing Peeta's hand. Was this the news I wanted to hear though? Was I willing to give up what I'd experienced these past few months with Peeta in exchange for my old memories back? My mind flashed back to sitting at the base of the tree the other day. Then I was sure I wouldn't trade it – but now that it was set in stone I didn't know how to feel.

"No chance at all?" Peeta asked.

Cinna shook his head. "Brain injuries are different than others. They're not as easy to explain or understand I'm afraid."

"We'll get through this," he said softly, holding my hand in his. "We can get through anything Katniss."

I nodded. "I know we can. I just-"

"-If you're not even having any progress at this point, I'm sorry. That's just my opinion – feel free to get a second one. I could recommend someone."

"No, um…that's alright. You said any progress?"

Cinna nodded. "Is there something you haven't told me?" he asked, leaning forward again in his chair. I could see Peeta's head turn to look at me as I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wasn't looking forward to this.

"Sometimes…well, one time I got this flash. This weird….deja vu moment. But it didn't feel like that…it felt like…my brain was struggling to remember and it just got this…this snippet."

Peeta shifted beside me. "Katniss," he said softly, "you never told me about this."

"I didn't want to get your hopes up Peeta. I…I didn't want to crush you when nothing happened. Because that's what's happening, isn't it?" I asked Cinna. "I mean…I get just a few seconds of total clarity before it all slips away and I'm right back where I started. I didn't think it meant anything."

Cinna chewed his lip and tilted his head to the side. "This changes things. I….this could mean a lot."

"What does it mean most of the time?" I asked with a shaky voice.

"It means that your memory is slowly fighting to come back. This changes things."

Peeta was quiet as we climbed back into his rusted truck after my appointment. We drove across town to the Hawthorne house to visit my mother and he didn't say a word until we were parked in the circular driveway. I looked over at him and timidly touched his hand. He pulled it away and I watched as his cheeks slowly turned pink. The tips of his ears soon turned to match, so I knew he was frustrated or angry.

"Peeta?"

"You could have told me."

I looked over at him sadly, shaking my head. "It would crush you if I gave you hope only to…to not remember. I've hurt you enough to last a lifetime Peeta. I couldn't live with myself if I did it again."

He nodded in understanding, but his lips were pressed together in a thin line as he opened the door. My body felt like lead, anchored to the warm vinyl seat as he walked around to open my door. I knew this wasn't the end of this conversation – Peeta did have a tendency to brood about things in silence.

"Peeta-"

"We can talk about this later, alright? Let's just go visit your mom."

Cora let us in, smiling warmly until she realized we were in gloomy moods. I did my best to smile and hug her back as she embraced me, but I couldn't help but register the dark cloud that seemed to have settled over us after the appointment. I did want to tell Peeta about the flashes – I'd even almost done it several times. But how could I live with myself if I only disappointed him again? After everything we'd been through, we'd finally fallen back in love and gotten over the hurdles life had thrown at us. By telling him about my memory flashes it only seemed like I'd be placing more in front of us.

I wasn't sure if my heart and his could take another blow like that.

Was I wrong to assume that keeping him blissfully unaware was a bad thing to do? I thought I was protecting him. Based on the look in his eye when he caught my gaze, he didn't think so.

My mother was having another bad day. I sat in front of her on the ottoman, holding one of her hands in mine. She stared silently forward, blinking every few minutes. I could barely get her to turn her head when I spoke to her.

Peeta sat beside her on the couch, talking softly with Cora. She was the only one home that afternoon; Prim was doing wedding things, Rory and Gale were at work with their father, and Mrs. Hawthorne was having a day at the spa.

"That poor girl been runnin around like a chicken with her head cut off trynna plan this wedding," Cora mused softly.

"I should probably be helping her," I admitted from the ottoman. Cora shrugged.

"She sure ain't getting help from Rory. Kid is as lazy as he is-well, I'd better not."

I smiled at her honesty and shrugged. "She seems to like him. I'm done arguing with her about it though."

Cora raised an eyebrow. "Someone outght to. You're her big sister Katniss – someone gotta knock some sense into the silly head of hers."

"And do what?"

"You don't think she should marry Rory then?" Peeta asked with an amused smile.

Cora shook her head. "I don't say a word. These folks run around this house and just spend money like drunken sailors and I don't say a word. Mrs. Everdeen and I don't get caught up in it; we don't say a single world."

Cora's joking was the only thing I laughed at that day, it turned out.

After saying our goodbyes Peeta and I climbed back into his truck and headed home. He needed to go do payroll and next week's schedules at the bakery, and I had to work the evening shift at Abernathy's. Our temporary jovial attitude thanks to Cora seemed to dissipate as soon as we got into the truck and pulled out onto the road. The mood had shifted and I didn't know what to say – Peeta obviously didn't either, for the entire ride back to our apartment was quiet.

We walked up the steps and unlocked the door and I could feel his agitation with me. I couldn't take it any longer.

"We need to talk about this."

He gave me a hurt look and shrugged. "Say whatever you need to say."

"Don't do that. Don't be like that Peeta. I didn't do this to hurt you. That's the last thing I'd ever want to do."

Peeta shrugged out of his coat and hung his head for a moment. "You really weren't going to tell me you've had…flashes?"

I shrugged dumbly, unsure of what to say. "I didn't know how to tell you."

He snorted sarcastically, his blue eyes piercing as he brushed past me. "How about, 'Hey Peeta, you're my husband and I feel like I can trust you with this: my memory might be coming back!'," he snapped. I stood in the entryway, frozen with shock. He's never been sharp with me before. It stung a hundred times more than any snide comment from Gale ever did.

He leaned against the counter in the kitchen and scrubbed his hands over his face. "I just…why would you leave me in the dark over something so big? This is huge, Katniss. Did you hear what he said? He said that's a sign things are coming back."

"Peeta, I just-"

"You just what? You thought I didn't need to know? Katniss…"

"Why are you blowing up over this?" I demanded. Hurt and anger swelled in my chest, making it hard to breathe. "I'm doing all I can here to fix this and…and…I didn't know how to tell you!"

"I'm your husband, Katniss, your husband. You can tell me anything! That's what this whole 'marriage' thing is about!"

"Well excuse me Mr. Perfect, but I've got news: this whole 'marriage' thing is a little new to me so you'll have to excuse me for not doing it perfectly right away. Did you forget that this is new to me?!"

"Of course I didn't Katniss. But be real. You hid this from me. This isn't….this isn't something minor that can be swept under the rug with a little fib. You kept this from me! How can you expect me not to be a little hurt by that? How can you stand there and tell me that I shouldn't be upset when…damn it, I'm upset!" he said loudly, slamming his fist down on the counter top. I jumped as it made a cracking sound that echoed through the space.

"I didn't know how, Peeta! I didn't even understand what was happening to me!"

"We could have figured it out together," he snapped. "You didn't even give me a chance to deal with it! You just assumed you knew best and went along living, leaving poor stupid Peeta out in the dark."

"That's not what it was at all!"

"Then explain it to me Katniss, because I think it's a pretty big deal that you have these weird moments where you almost remember stuff."

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at him. "Why? You wanna trade wives again? Get rid of version 2.0?"

His mouth dropped open. "That's not even fair. I didn't get a choice in this and you know it. I'm barely hanging on here Katniss."

"Why can't you see that I didn't tell you this because I didn't want to hurt you?"

"Because we're a team and we….we tell each other everything."

I stepped closer to him and felt my hands start to shake. "And what if it was nothing? Huh? What if I got your hopes up for nothing?"

"Then we would have dealt with it! You didn't even give me a chance to decide whether or not it would be alright because you went and left me completely in the dark!"

"I'm sorry that I couldn't handle the thought of hurting you again, alright? I'm sorry that I didn't like the thought of that."

"You didn't even give me an option," he snapped, walking around the island. He knocked a dirty cup angrily into the sink and turned away from me to stare out the tiny window. "I just wanted to know how you were doing. I….I'm more hurt that you didn't trust me with this."

"You know what Peeta? I have enough to deal with. Two months ago I didn't even know who the fuck you were when I woke up in the hospital. I think I've done pretty fucking well with this whole mess, alright?"

He turned around and stared at me. "And I haven't? My life was turned upside down when you fell out of that tree and I'm doing the best I can to deal with it! But I can't fix things or help you if you won't even let me know what the problem is!"

"It was my decision, alright? It's my head, my stupid fucking brain and it's up to me whether or not I want to tell you, alright? It's up to me. Not you, me."

I turned back around and grabbed my still-warm coat off the rack before tossing him a murderous glare.

"Where are you going?"

I yanked the door open and sighed. "Work. And honestly…away from you. I can't take this right now."

I slammed the door behind me and paused outside on the landing. I knew I shouldn't have yelled at him like that, but where did he get off deciding that I was wrong and he was right? It was my memory, not his. An anxious feeling gnawed at my stomach as I turned and fled down the steps.

I needed time to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> Before you freak out, remember what I've said: This will NOT end like The Vow and I am a sucker for Happily Ever Afters. So please do not come after me with your torches just yet!
> 
> I would like to know what your thoughts are on this little quarrel: Who is in the right? Or does it matter?
> 
> Also - I've posted a new Valentine's day fic! 'Arrows & Cupids' is now up on my profile! Please check it out! : )


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Tempest

I angrily tossed my purse behind the bar with a flourish. Haymitch sat on the opposite side of the bar doing the schedule, his blonde hair mussed in a way that told me he was as disheveled on the outside as I felt on the inside. His blue eyes flicked up to meet mine over his readers.

"What?" I hissed through my teeth.

"Swell…I see you're in a good mood today."

"I don't want to talk about it," I growled, reaching for my apron. I tied it around my waist with a grunt and grabbed a damp towel to start wiping down the already spotless bar. It helped to clean when I was angry.

"Didn't offer," he quipped back.

I frowned at him and scanned the bar; everyone had a full drink so I crossed my arms and leaned back against the cooler. So far cleaning wasn't helping me feel any better. I was still so angry I felt like I could burst. Where did Peeta get off thinking I was at fault? Could I suddenly control what my brain did? No. So why was he so angry that I hadn't told him about the flashes I'd been having? I'd only wanted to spare him the hurt and disappointment he'd feel in the end if it meant absolutely nothing. It didn't make any sense to me.

Haymitch cleared his throat and took a sip of his drink.

Even the way he sipped made me irrationally furious today. I scowled at him again.

"Might as well spit it out sweetheart," he grumbled in defeat.

e He he

"Do all men think they're entitled to know everything?"

He only looked at me.

"Just…do they all think that they have a right to know everything that goes on? That they can just demand that we tell them everything?"

One of his eyebrows rose slightly, but he didn't move.

"I mean…just because I wake up fucking married one day doesn't fucking mean….that I know what the fuck I'm doing!" I ranted, throwing my hands in the air. A few patrons had stopped drinking to watch me pitch a fit, but most were only watching Jeopardy. Haymitch sighed, pulling off his glasses.

"I surmise you and bread boy had a little lovers' tiff?"

"You surmised correctly," I snapped.

"What? Did one of you forget to leave the other a cupcake or what? You run out of flour? Piddly problems," he grunted.

I fumed. Of course Haymitch wouldn't take me seriously! I wasn't a bottle of Maker's Mark after all. But….if I couldn't rant to Haymitch, what else could I do? Shoulders slumped, I realized my boss was my only ear that day.

"It's more serious than that. We had a real fight, Haymitch. I don't know how we can fix this."

"Doubtful," he sniffed, taking a sip of his drink. "Anything you two are fighting about can be fixed. I can almost promise you that. You cheat on him or somethin'?"

"No. I….well I didn't tell him something. About my memory. But only because I didn't want to get his hopes up, ya know?! I didn't want him to look forward to something and then…just crush him."

Haymitch frowned. "Wait, your memory?"

"Yeah. I get…these weird deja vu moments that my doctor thinks mean…well, we don't know what it means but he thought maybe it meant my memory might be slowly coming back."

Haymitch cocked an eyebrow at me and chewed the end of his glasses. "So it might come back yet, eh?"

I shrugged. "There's no way to know for sure. So…I didn't tell him. I didn't tell him that I was having them because…because what if it really is nothing? What if I never get it back and he gets all excited for nothing?"

"He's an excitable boy," he quipped sourly. "But you didn't think the kid deserved to at least know?"

I shrugged. "Like I said, I…I didn't want to hurt him or get his hopes up to only crush them when I didn't remember anything. I was protecting him."

"Says you."

"Yes," I snapped. "Peeta's been through enough, I couldn't stand the thought of…letting him down like that again. I couldn't hurt him any more than I already have."

"But who are you to decide that? You're married, you shoulda at least told the boy. Let him decide what to get excited about."

"Yes but-"

"-But nothin'. He's prolly just as pissed at you for not sayin' anything. Isn't he?"

"Well…yeah," I huffed. I grabbed a bottle of water out of the cooler and tried to calm myself down. I wasn't going to get anything accomplished by being all huffy at work but I just couldn't help it. I was still irate.

"I'm just sayin; he just wants to be on the same page as you. He's stood by you through all this…so I've heard…and…and the kid deserves your honesty. You don't have to tell him everything, but...I imagine this blindsided him a bit?"

I nodded. "He found out at my doctor's appointment this morning."

Haymitch eyed me. "No wonder."

"What makes you such an expert anyway?" I snapped. "Have you ever been married?"

"Yup."

"Well?"

He looked up from his paperwork and sighed. "You really wanna know?"

I stared at him. Honestly, the look on his face didn't signify it had ended well; he wasn't married now, so I assumed it had ended at some point.

"Yes."

"Well…" he paused, "I was married, yah. If you must know, Maysie is deceased. She was killed….she's gone," he finished, his blue eyes drooping down. They landed on his glass. He lifted it to his lips, draining it completely. The ice in the bottom of the glass shifted as he set it back down on the bar.

I felt my breath leave my chest violently as his blue eyes stared into mine.

"She…she was?"

He nodded. "Riding with a drunk driver. Got into an accident one night and she was killed. Years ago."

I couldn't stop myself; the question left my lips before I could think even though I was sure I already knew the answer.

"Who was the driver?"

Haymitch didn't blink.

"Me."

I stared at him helplessly, my stomach twisting in knots. He finally blinked a few times and looked back down at his paper. "Your problems suddenly don't seem to bad, do they sweetheart?"

My head barely shook. "No. They…don't," I whispered. I had to blink back tears as I realized how right Haymitch was. My problems seemed amazingly small and stupid and completely insignificant compared to what he was dealing with. He had driven drunk and accidently killed his own wife. "I'm so sorry."

He quirked an eyebrow at me and shrugged. "Can't change the past. All you can do is just deal with it. Some of us do that better than others," he said, holding up his glass. I gingerly gave him a refill, declining to comment. If alcohol helped him deal with his demons, I had no business telling him that was wrong. He was handling his situation the best way he knew how and I couldn't begrudge him for that.

The hours ticked by slowly. I realized that Peeta was just on the other side of the brick wall that separated the bakery from Abernathy's; was he thinking about our fight? Was he obsessing about it the way I was? The angry words we'd spoken earlier echoed in my mind. I didn't mean them when it came down to it; I was just stubborn to a fault. Peeta knew that about me. He knew I was so stuck in my ways and thinking I was right that it was my Achilles heel. And he still loved me for it. I knew I owed him an apology. He was only concerned for my well-being and I should have told him.

The glass I was drying slipped from my hands and fell to the tile floor with a crash. "Damn it," I cursed, holding up my hands in defeat. I gave Haymitch an apologetic look where he sat at the bar, still working on the schedule. He rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you do us both a favor and go home and talk to that boy? He's about closin' up by now."

"I still have two more hours on my shift," I argued. I still hadn't figured out exactly how I was going to apologize to poor Peeta yet and I was avoiding the situation (as I tended to do).

"Yeah, and I only have so many damn glasses. What's that, two today?"

I nodded dejectedly and shrugged. "You're sure?"

"Please," he grunted. "Don't make that poor boy suffer any more than you already have, sweetheart."

"What are you trying to say?" I snapped as I removed my apron.

He sighed and gave an evil little chuckle as he pulled his glasses off. "I'm saying that you don't deserve a guy like him if all you do is blame him for being concerned. Why don't you get your stubborn butt back to your house and prove me wrong?"

I made my way slowly up the steps to the apartment, dragging my boots on the hard wood floor at the top. Haymitch had finally sent me home by threatening to fire me. I doubted he would – not many girls my age would want to tend bar in his dive, but I did feel bad for breaking so many glasses and for showing up to work so distracted. So, I had finally packed up my things and headed home.

I stood outside the door to our apartment, chewing my lip and shifting my weight on my feet. My hand was poised over the doorknob when the door suddenly flew open. Screeching in surprise, I came face to face with Peeta's worried gaze.

"Katniss?"

"What are you doing?" I exhaled sharply. "You scared me."

Peeta sighed sheepishly scratching his head. "I…was coming down to Abernathy's actually. What are you doing? I thought your shift ended at nine."

"It did," I sighed. "Haymitch finally sent me home."

"He did? For what?"

I sighed as I pushed past him into the apartment. "I wasn't….today hasn't been a good day."

Peeta rolled his eyes and twisted his mouth up miserably. "Tell me about it."

I gulped and swallowed back my pride. I hated apologizing but I was smart enough to know when one was owed. "Look…I'm sorry. Okay? I'm really sorry."

He lifted his gaze up to meet mine as we stood in the entry way of our apartment. "What?"

I fidgeted slightly, picking my nails and wrinkling my nose. The apology came easier than I thought it would; now I just had to explain myself. "I'm sorry for…not telling you. I should have. You were only being concerned."

"Well…I was actually coming to tell you that I was the sorry one," he sighed, reaching over. His fingertips brushed my chin before unzipping my bulky winter coat and helping me out of it. I turned around and looked up at him with remorseful eyes.

"You shouldn't have. Peeta, I….I know you were only looking out for me. I get that now. I'm sorry I….didn't fill you in. But…I only did it because I didn't want to disappoint you."

He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. "When are you going to realize that you're never going to disappoint me? You're alive, okay? We could be dealing with much worse right now. I love you just the way you are; old Katniss, new Katniss, or even in-between. You're still the same girl I fell in love with whether you realize it or not."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"I mean," he sighed, "that you're still you. Sure, you've forgotten the details but the things you do, the way you talk….it's all still Katniss."

I laughed softly as I squeezed his palm against mine. "Wow…you really love me, don't you?"

He chuckled, pulling me into a warm hug. "I really do."

After our much needed apology, Peeta made a comforting dinner of cheese buns and hot chocolate. We sat intertwined together on the couch as we ate, gazing up at our Christmas tree. Christmas was coming up in less than two weeks. I realized I had no idea what I was going to get Peeta for the holiday as I bit into another cheesy bun.

"So we were both going to find each other to apologize…how sweet," he mused, sipping his hot chocolate. "It's like something out of a romance novel."

I snorted and dipped the bun in my hands into some extra marinara sauce. "Right."

"Oh come on," he pleaded, "That's romantic."

"That's silly. We both knew we were wrong and being stupid so we were going to apologize. End of story."

"You're such a Scrooge," he laughed, ruffling my braid. "Just agree with me that it was romantic."

He grabbed my empty plate along with his and took them over to the kitchen area. After dropping them in the sink, he returned to pull me up from the couch. "I really am sorry, Katniss."

I gave him a weak smile. As much as I teased him about being a sap, it was kind of….nice. I had enough fire and anger for two people; Peeta was like water. Cool and soothing, bending to adapt to whatever I needed him to be. He certainly understood me and knew how to quell the flames that sometimes made me the way I was.

"I'm sorry too," I repeated softly. I stared at his lips, already longing to feel them against mine once more. Today had been hell from the get go and I wanted him to fix it. I needed him to make everything okay and prove that we were fine.

"We'll get through this," he promised softly before pressing his mouth to mine. He kissed me softly, and I could tell it was meant to be chaste. But he lingered there for a split second and we teetered for a moment. Pulling away, his eyes met mine and I saw them momentarily smolder.

"Show me," I whispered.

The smile he gave me went all the way up to his eyes. My lips met his hotly, already yearning for the taste of him. Peeta met me back with ferocity, his mouth opening enough to let my tongue dive in. I tasted him eagerly, winding my hands into his blond curls to anchor him to me. Our kiss was hot and deep and everything I needed to feel better. I was confused momentarily when he pulled away with a soft grunt.

His blue eyes flashed as he pulled my hands out of his hair to grasp them in his. "You know what the best part of being married and fighting is?"

"What? No," I admitted breathlessly.

His gaze darkened. "Making up."

I laughed and smiled, nodding willingly as he stood up. "Come on. I have an idea."

"Something we haven't done yet?" I asked hopefully.

His only response was to squeeze my hand in his as he led me to the downstairs bathroom. His eyes were questioning as he reached for the button on my jeans. I nodded. The air was suddenly filled with an enticing charge that made my toes curl in my socks. He reached into the tiled shower and turned on the water, letting the room steam up around us.

Perfect.

Making up with Peeta seemed like a perfectly acceptable way to spend the evening. He unzipped my pants and quickly hooked his fingers into the belt loops, pulling them down to my feet. I mirrored his actions and reached for his khaki pants as he clumsily tried to pull my shirt over my head. I giggled at our awkwardness; how adults couldn't figure out that they couldn't undress each other simultaneously was actually a little funny. We figured it out soon enough. Our clothes were soon on a messy heap on the floor as he reached in and tested the water.

"Care to jump in with me?" he asked.

"You know I will," I laughed. We climbed into the tiled, steamy shower and I could feel the stress and tension of the day immediately falling away. Peeta reached out for me, his hands seeking solace on my hips as he pulled me against him. Through the steam and dim light I let myself finally admire his naked form as the water droplets began their assault. Peeta's strong, stocky body was definitely something to be admired. While he lacked the definition some muscled men had (I suspect it was all the bread) there was no shortage of solid bulk. I leaned against him and let the water cascade down my body. He grinned through the water and pulled me against him. His head dipped down enough for his mouth to capture mine again.

"Now this is what I call a shower," he laughed. I giggled with him and reached for the soap.

Peeta raised an eyebrow as I began running the white bar over his chest, circling his pecks and then running it down his arms. "So we're really showering then?"

"Just shut up," I snickered. I wanted to appreciate him, damn it. What better way to do it than with a slippery bar of soap?

I ran the soap down his arms, over his shoulders, and around the front of his neck. He leaned back against the tiled wall, a light smile gracing his features. I could feel him tense beneath me as I slowly slid the bar of soap down his stomach, further and further until I was almost to his crotch. I stopped before I reached it, giving him a teasing smile through the steam.

"Devil woman," he murmured, shaking his head. I smirked to myself as I ran the soap over his hips and around to the small of his back. I watched him open one amused eye and watch me as I ran it over his sculpted bottom. I couldn't help myself – the man had an ass. He made every pair of jeans or khakis or even sweatpants look good with that butt of his, and I had no qualms about running my hands over it. I pinched him playfully, making him squeak in surprise.

"Katniss!" he yelped. I laughed against the tiled wall and shook my head.

"Couldn't help myself," I insisted. I laughed again as I ran the bar of soap over his hip again and down to his groin. He sucked in a breath and leaned harder against the wall as I finally touched his stiffening arousal with my soapy hand. Ditching the soap, I wrapped my palm around him and gave him a slippery stroke. He hissed against the steam and opened both eyes. "Damn," he growled.

"Yeah?" I teased, cocking my head to the side.

I stroked him a few more times before he finally batted my hand away. His gaze was calculating and predatory as he grabbed my face and pulled me against him in an urgent kiss.

"Peeta," I squeaked against his mouth. "Come on now, I was trying to-"

"-I know what you were trying to do babe, but if you keep doing it this won't last very long," he insisted against my lips. He lunged forward, pressing his body against mine and claiming my mouth with his. Urgency surged through me and I suddenly just wanted him so badly I thought my heart would spring from my chest it was beating so hard.

His mouth pried itself from mine, moving down to attack the wet skin of my neck. The water cascading down on us only made the entire scenario even better. I felt like some wanton harlot in a trashy romance novel as he pressed me up against the shower wall, but who was I to argue? I gasped and forgot about my worries as he lifted my leg up and dipped a finger into my waiting heat. Sweet Jesus the man knew how to touch me so that I was a quivering mass against his hand.

"Hmmm…." He whispered through the steam, his nose skimming my cheek. "Maybe we should fight more often."

He curled his fingers again and brushed the spot deep within me that made my legs go to jelly. His free hand cupped my bottom and held on tight as I fought to stand or think or even breathe.

"Peeta," I groaned, leaning back against the tile. He smirked at me through the steam and touched me expertly. He added another finger, stroking my inner walls with a perfected touch that I was sure I'd never grow tired of. Within minutes he had me moaning and writhing and thrusting against his hand.

"Oh…I'm…"

He cruelly slid his fingers out, his eyes dancing devilishly. My chest heaved with disappointment as the feeling of my approaching climax slowly flittered away. "What the hell?" I demanded.

He didn't answer. Instead, he leaned down and gripped my leg and entered me in one swift thrust. I gasped out and felt like I was going to scale the shower wall with my bare hands as he settled himself in me to the hilt. We both froze as our eyes met, locking on each other like vice grips. His eyes were questioning as he paused.

"You alright?" he asked softly, brushing his lips against my forehead.

I could only nod at that point, savoring the feeling of his hot mouth against my skin. Not only was I okay, I ached for more.

"Go on. Please," I managed to croak.

His free hand gripped my bottom as he took a few deep, ragged breaths. I had a feeling this wouldn't last long at all, but I was willing to accept that. He pulled out just far enough for me to miss him before sliding home once again. I shifted my hips up to grant him better access and he threw his head back in pleasure.

"Fuck Katniss," he growled. I could only smile and grip his arms. He was normally so calm and reserved that it was nice to hear him let go and stream profanities every once in a while. The thick bands of solid muscle contracted beneath my touch as he held up my leg and held my body steady. I leaned against the wall for extra leverage and met his gaze with a wicked smile as the water beat down on us. Peeta answered by pulling his hips back and practically jack hammering himself into me so forcefully that it made my entire body quake.

He lowered himself to my mouth again, attacking my forcefully but I didn't care. The angst and anger and frustration we'd both surely felt earlier only spurred us further. If anything our anger only added to the passion I suddenly felt. I began to feel a little dizzy as he kissed me harder, his tongue probing forward to taste mine. He was a sweet man to the core, but I could feel his aggression surging through him as he kissed me. His tongue swirled against mine as he thrust his hips against my body in a frantic rhythm. I knew we wouldn't last long like this, but it didn't matter. We needed this.

"More," I pleaded into the steam.

Peeta broke away from my mouth with a loud groan, burying his face into my neck. I felt his mouth lightly suck on my skin, his tongue swiping at the water that slid down from the shower head. I could feel his body grow tighter and tighter like a coil that was about to spring. He thrust against my walls like a man possessed; he was relentless. He suddenly stilled his movements, pulling out of my entrance just long enough to drop my legs and put his hands on my bottom. I understood and gave him a wicked grin. He picked me up and leaned me against the shower wall as he entered me again. The new angle was not lost on me.

"Yes Peeta….oh God, yes," I groaned. He smiled devilishly through the water and bit his lip. I felt him stiffen as he climaxed, his hips jerking against mine. With shaky arms he lowered me back down to the shower floor as soon as he was spent.

"Peeta-"

"I'm not finished with you," he growled in my ear, palming my breasts in his hands. I bit back a smile as he lowered himself to his knees, directing me to stand just out of the spray of water. I leaned against the tiled wall and watched with wide eyes as my husband seemed to take on the personality of some wild, feral animal. He yanked my right leg up and threw it over his shoulder before leaning forward and placing his mouth on my sex. I keened loudly in pleasure as he wasted no time finishing what he'd started. He slid two fingers into my entrance and began working me while he sucked my clit between his lips and relentlessly pleasured me. I felt lightheaded and woozy as he worked; the heat of the shower and the pressure of his tongue almost overwhelming. It was like a sensory overload as he worked me closer and closer. I could feel the stubble on his chin scraping lightly against the inside of my tights as he worked; sucking, biting, licking and kissing. The muscles in his back twisted and flexed under my leg as he worked me, quickly coaxing me closer to the edge.

I chanced a glimpse down at him and that was my undoing; Peeta on his knees in front of me, blonde hair wild and wet and sticking up in all directions. His cheeks were red and his eyes were closed in pleasure as he fucked me with his fingers and stroked himself with his free hand.

Holy fuck.

My back arched against the warm tiles as I came undone, my cries echoing against the shower walls. He might have come a second time; I couldn't be sure. I was too blissed out and completely sated that I couldn't even move my head to look down at him. He licked me a few more times before placing a soft kiss on my center. I was so worked up that even the slightly tough of his lips sent me squirming again. He hadn't removed his fingers yet, so he took advantage of that by making me come again.

We would definitely be staging another fight soon.

"Oh God…I'm going to fall over," I pleaded, lowering my leg off his back. He stood up shakily, bracing his arms on either side of my head. We stared at each other for a minute, just panting wildly and trying to stop shaking form exertion and pleasure. His blue eyes were still wide and dilated with lust as he stared at me through the steam. We came down slowly, our bodies and minds racing from the high of the intense sex we'd just shared. He was quiet a moment as he stared at me, suddenly serious again.

"We okay?" he asked softly, his voice hoarse.

I could only nod. I hugged his body to mine, burying my face in his neck. He kissed the top of my wet head and sighed.

"Good."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32: Fine Mess

We eventually got out of the shower and dried off, deciding to then curl up on the touch together. Peeta was in a pair of sweatpants and nothing else, and I was in my ratty bathrobe as we sat in the dark and stared at our lit Christmas tree. Seeing the sparkling branches with Buttercup tucked beneath it in a furry orange pile made me relax even further into Peeta's side. It was amazing how much a simple steamy romp in the shower had made everything better again. I was suddenly a big believer in marriage makeup sex.

"Well that was fun," he said politely, running a hand through his still-damp hair. I gave him a crooked smile and had to laugh. I bit back a grin and shook my head as I remembered the way he'd looked on the floor of the shower, his face between my legs and the water running off the ends of his shaggy blonde hair.

"Fun? We just fucked each other senseless in the shower."

He shrugged and sniffed. "I'm a guy – that equals fun."

"I'd definitely bump that up a notch from 'fun' to 'kinky hot fuckery'."

"Fine then. Kinky hot fuckery. Happy?"

"Bit," I admitted. I chuckled and leaned my head against his shoulder. He pulled my legs into his lap and curled against me, stretching his thick arms around my legs to hold me against him. We seemed to melt against the plush couch in the nicest way imaginable. I watched the worry lines disappear from his handsome face as he relaxed against me.

"You like to cuddle, huh?"

"Maybe," he chuckled, shifting slightly. I poked his side and watched him jump slightly.

"So much for the wild animal that was in my shower twenty minutes ago. What happened to that madman? Did he break into my house just to get me in the shower and make me wild with pleasure?"

Peeta lazily kissed my cheek and scratched his head, playing along. "I dunno. He must have broken in and commandeered you while I wasn't looking. I hope he was at least good?"

"He was spectacular, thank you. A very skilled oralist."

"Is that even a word?"

"Who knows? The man was good with his mouth though, so whatever you call that. Not often a man breaks into your house to make you come twice."

"Twice? Well, that was generous of him," Peeta said, feigning innocence.

I giggled and rested my head on his shoulder. "You're funny."

"I'm hysterical," he sighed, running his fingers through my damp hair. "What do you want for Christmas?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. You. There – that cheesy enough?"

"You've got me. What do you really want?"

"I have everything I need."

As if to prove my point, Buttercup jumped up onto the arm of the couch next to where we were sitting and began to purr contentedly. He was slowly coming around and being a little friendlier these days. I still didn't consider myself much of a cat person – at all- but I could see how he fit in here. He seemed to gaze at the Christmas tree in front of us contentedly. He'd already tried to climb it twice and we'd peeled him out when he'd gotten stuck. His coat still had bits of glitter and tinsel stuck in it.

"Nah, come on. I have a little money saved up and I wanted to get you something nice that you wouldn't normally buy for yourself. I want you to light up like a kid on Christmas day when you come down the steps."

I laughed and shook my head. "I don't need anything Peeta. Make me something sugary and Christmassy for breakfast; I'll be happy with that. That's kid-like, right?"

He shrugged, staring at the tree in front of us. I cocked my head and looked up at him. "Did…did we ever talk about kids?"

He looked down at me with surprise, his blue eyes widened slightly. "Um…yeah, we did."

"What did we decide?"

Peeta swallowed, stalling for a moment. I could tell by the way he looked away suddenly that we definitely had this conversation once before my accident. His entire demeanor had gotten nervous in the span of just a few seconds.

"Um…you were open to the idea. I guess. You used to kinda…shy away from kids. I think babies scare you," he chuckled nervously.

I nodded. "That sounds like me."

"But it's a baby. What could possibly be scary about that?"

I sat up and laughed. "Oh, I don't know: I could break it, injure it, leave it somewhere and walk away, drop it on its head….and that's only when it's little. When they grow up I can emotionally damage it and make it hate me. Just the little things I guess."

Peeta sighed and shook his head. "Parenting is a learned skill. No one ever knows what they're doing when they're handed their own baby for the first time. It's normal to panic."

"Right, well…I'd definitely panic. But we'd at least talked about the kids thing?"

"Yeah. Um…well we've talked about kids, yeah."

I shifted my weight on the couch to face him. "Peeta…what are you not telling me?"

"Nothing, it's just…well, are you sure you want to talk about this?"

"Yes," I stated firmly. I didn't want to relive much of what I couldn't remember – it was too frustrating. But this….this I wanted to talk about. This was no small issue and I knew I had to know what I'd agreed to before my accident. He sighed and shook his head slowly as if he knew I wasn't going to like whatever he was about to tell me.

"Well…you know how your birth control shot is up in January? Well…we were going to have that be the last one. We talked about it the day before your accident. We agreed to…well, we agreed that in January we'd start trying to have a baby."

I chewed my lip nervously. "Like…on purpose?"

Peeta burst out laughing. "Yes, on purpose. We wanted to see if we could do it I guess. I kinda talked you into it," he admitted through his laughter. He shook his head at me and hugged me a little tighter. "Oh Katniss…."

"You did?"

He nodded as his laughter subsided. His cheeks were bright pink from the sudden outburst and the slight line of worry between his brows returned. "But that's alright. We've got time for that. If…you ever want kids. But it doesn't matter."

I leaned back against the couch, watching his face. I knew him enough to be able to tell that it did matter to him. I wasn't blind; I could see the way his face lit up and his features changed at the mention of children. This was no small thing to Peeta.

"I…didn't think I did before. But…" I trailed off, looking over at him. I watched his jaw clench anxiously as his wide eyes watched me. The problem before was that I could never picture myself with children. I wasn't good with them and babies did scare the crap out of me. Small, breakable, wiggly, loud, leaky…sometimes smelly….I just wasn't sure if I was cut out for it that was all. In my opinion, babies deserved parents that genuinely wanted them and knew how to take care of them and keep them safe. It wasn't that I didn't like kids, it's just that I didn't necessarily put myself in that category.

"Don't worry about that right now. We have years to decide," he said softly, rubbing my knee. I felt his warm, loving touch and couldn't help but try to imagine how he would be with children. Peeta would be the ultimate dad – involved, gentle, loving, funny….Meanwhile, I couldn't even picture myself with a child. What did that say about me?

"But it doesn't bother you that we decided before my accident to have a baby and now we're not even going to talk about it?"

Peeta shrugged. "I didn't mean it that way. I just meant….our happiness should come first before we decide to bring a baby into the world."

"I guess you're right," I said slowly. I stared forward at the glimmering Christmas tree and tried to picture what I feared; instead, I thought of the best qualities Peeta possessed that might shine through in a child: His creativeness, his kindness, and his pretty blue eyes. I pictured a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes finger-painting with me in the park while we watched the ducks. I smiled.

"It might not be so bad."

Over the next few days, I thought a lot about what Peeta had said about children. We had talked about it before my accident. I had once considered getting pregnant – and on purpose! I could hardly believe it. Babies scared the crap out of me. I began having dreams that I had one and did horrible, unspeakable things like leaving the carrier on top of my car or wandering away from it while I was in the supermarket and losing it completely.

Was I even cut out to be a mother? I didn't feel like it. I still felt like an irresponsible kid myself. But Peeta's nonchalance at the subject wasn't fooling me a bit – I noticed the way his eyes lingered on small children of any shape and size. His desperation to become a father was so transparent it was laughable.

I suddenly wanted nothing more than to remember the conversation we'd had where I'd actually agreed to try to have a baby.

"Shit," I cursed, pulling my hand back at the burning sensation. I was attempting to curl my hair and do something besides my usual braid for Annie's gala downtown. It was a big deal – her first big show at the gallery she and a few other local artists owned together. It was being sponsored by the city in an attempt to push local artists and their work, so it would actually be pretty fancy.

"You about ready?" Peeta asked, ducking out of the bathroom. I was sitting at my vanity table in the corner, repeatedly burning myself with the torture device known as a curling wand.

"I'm a fail at this," I grumbled, tossing it down on the table. "Did I know how to use this stupid thing before I hit my head, or….?"

He snickered as he finished tying his tie. I caught his eye in the mirror and turned around, giving him a low whistle. "You know when you actually wash the flour out of your hair and scrub the dough out from underneath your fingernails you look pretty good Mellark."

He rolled his eyes and smoothed his black tie down. He wore his nicest pair of black pants, a black jacket, and a white dress shirt that he had ironed himself after I'd told him to forget it – I wasn't going to even attempt ironing. The black tie was the perfect touch. He looked handsome and dapper and completely out of my league. I'd borrowed some little red number from Prim at the last minute and was already regretting it; my little sister had skinnier hips and smaller boobs and needless to say I felt like a tightly stuffed sausage in her hand me downs.

"I clean up alright, yeah," he laughed, coming up behind me. "And you never did get the hang of this thing, no." I watched as he reached across me to pick up the hot styling wand, eying my cleavage stealthily. "Are we working the lounge tonight dear?"

I pulled at the dress and sniffed. "It's Prim's. She's uh….a little skinnier than I am apparently."

"You look fantastic."

"I look awful. I can't change though, because I obviously don't own any dresses," I complained, pulling on the hem.

"Well if you stopped fidgeting and pulling at it like that you'd look fantastic."

"Need to cut back on the cheese buns…" I muttered. I looked at my wild, frizzy hair in the mirror and scowled at my reflection. "And what's with my hair? Ugh, I hate getting dressed up, I hate it I hate it…."

"Sit down," he urged, pushing gently on my shoulders. I sat back down with a huff and wrinkled my nose at him in the mirror. He mimicked me back, but while I looked like a glowering serial killer, Peeta seemed to look more like a frustrated kitten.

I raised an eyebrow and skeptically watched as he wrapped a chunk of my wild mane around the wand. "You need like…three hands to do this."

I laughed at his efforts and waved him off. "I know. It's alright – Annie won't mind if my hair is a mess."

"Just give me a second; I think I can do this. If I can manage to make a Gerber daisy out of fondant and pipe icing on a wedding cake…I think I can handle a weird-ass curling iron."

"Be my guest," I laughed, leaning back in the chair. Peeta did actually manage to put a few curls in my wild mess of hair, effectively taking me from train-wreck status to halfway decent. I stood up and pulled the little red dress down as much as I could and managed a smile. "What would I do without you?"

Peeta smirked. "Sometimes, I'm not sure."

I watched as Annie chewed her lip and watched from a distance as the mayor and his wife observe one of her pieces. He nodded enthusiastically, whispering something to his wife. Annie and I had gone to yoga again that morning and I knew she was hoping the mayor would chose to put one of her pieces in the lobby of the new town visitor's center. I could tell by the way she was almost chewing through her bottom lip that she was even more nervous now than she was that morning.

"I feel bad for Annie," I admitted, gripping my champagne glass in my hand. Peeta took a sip of his own and nodded.

"This is big for her," he admitted. "Finn said she hasn't slept through the night in weeks. He keeps finding her in her studio at weird hours. I think he'll be glad when this is all over."

"He's not like….reconsidering things with her, is he?" I asked with a wince. "I mean I know she's been busy and really wrapped up in all of this but-"

"-Katniss. No," Peeta laughed. "Trust me. Finn understands that her art is important to her. It's her passion and her job. He's not going to get in the way of that. Now are you going to let that go warm or are you going to drink it?"

I gripped my glass as took a long chug of champagne to soothe my nerves. The art show wasn't the only thing Annie was nervous about today – she admitted that morning that she thought Finnick was growing more and more distant. She said he seemed jumpy all the time and in his own little world. Being the relationship dunce that I was, I couldn't offer her much advice. I told her to hang on and just try to make it through tonight.

"Why are you so worried? Finnick is crazy about her."

"Is he?"

Peeta nodded. "I've never seen him like this with a girl. We've been friends for years and he's never….he's just different with Annie, that's all."

The five piece string quartet in the corner of the large gallery began to play, the happy notes bouncing off the walls. The gallery was packed with people; artists, friends, and important people from the city. I felt a little out of place, but I knew Annie felt better having a few friendly faces in the room. I watched Finnick practically drag her to the dance floor to hopefully take her mind off of the mayor and his wife as they perused around the room.

Peeta threw back the rest of his champagne and took my empty glass. He placed it on a tray next to us and grabbed my hand. "Come on, let's dance."

I dragged my feet out to the dance floor, wrinkling my nose and scowling at him. "Peeta….I'm too nervous to dance."

"It's not even your art!" he laughed.

"I know, but Annie is my friend….well, one of my only friends. I'm nervous for her!"

Peeta narrowed his blue eyes at me and twisted his lips into a crooked smile that I had grown to love.

"Dance with me."

"Peeta….I remember not being able to dance. Do I really dance?" I asked. I could walk stealthily through the woods without making a sound and my balance was impeccable. However, when it came to dancing I'd always had two left feet. I could remember turning down awkward requests from Gale in high school to go to dances and proms strictly to avoid the act itself.

"Yes."

"Are you lying?"

"Maybe," he added with a boyish grin. I rolled my eyes and let him drag me further out into the dancing area.

The band continued to play string versions of a few popular songs I'd heard on the radio a time or two. The tones floated through the mostly empty space, echoing playfully as more and more people began dancing around us. I tried not to be awkward as hell as I put my hand in Peeta's and let him start to sway with me.

"You really hate this, don't you?" he laughed.

I glanced at my feet and shrugged. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"Make you keep dancing," he responded, making me twirl. I huffed and playfully slugged him in the shoulder before placing my hand on it again. We awkwardly moved through the rest of the dance, Peeta doing his gentlemanly best not to wince when I stepped on his toes. By the time the band ended and people clapped I'd had enough.

"Let's find that waiter with the free champagne," I moaned, grabbing his hand. He allowed me to drag him back to the bar area in the corner as I swiped another glass. I downed it as he looked on, shaking his head playfully.

"Vodka tonic," he said to the bartender.

"What? Tired of free champagne?" I asked.

He smirked and accepted the drink. "I'd like to not feel like my head isn't locked in a vice in the morning, that's all," he chuckled. I shrugged and downed another glass before reaching for another. Soon, the bubbly drink calmed my nerves and I began feeling a little better. I could see Annie standing beside the mayor, talking animatedly with her hands as he laughed at something she said. The band stopped playing a few minutes later and the mayor was handed a microphone.

"Good evening," he greeted. Peeta stood beside me as everyone stopped talking and listened, giving me a hopeful smile. The mayor thanked everyone for coming, commented on all the other artists, and complimented the art displayed all around the gallery. "It is so refreshing to see a young member of society so dedicated to the arts and preserving the sense of small town pride. That is why we are honored tonight to announce the decision to display the work of this talented young woman in our newly completed historical and visitor's center. It is our hope that every person who sets foot there will get a dose of the charming culture and appeal of our lovely city. We are also pleased to announce that Miss Annie's sculptures will also be featured in the Hillshire hotel downtown. Please join me in a round of applause for her work and dedication to culture and beauty."

Annie's face was of clear elation as the mayor spoke, her surprised laughed bubbling out of her throat before she could stop it. She clapped her hands over her mouth and bounced on the balls of her feet a few time as everyone clapped for her.

"Oh my god, Peeta!" I gasped, grabbing his arm. "She got it!"

"I know! That's amazing!" he laughed. We watched from the crowd as Finnick hurried over to her side and took the microphone from the mayor with a charming wink.

"Care if I add something to that?" he asked.

"What….what in the world is he doing?" I asked Peeta. The mayor nodded and laughed, handing the mic over to him.

Peeta just snickered.

"Annie, it's hard to imagine being happier than I am right now, but let's give it a shot, shall we? You're an amazing artist and teacher, but you're also one the most caring and wonderful people I've ever met. I'm convinced that your stunning ability to create beauty with your hands through art is not only because of your talent, but because all of that overflows from the beauty that you have inside of you. I love you inside and out Annie. Will you marry me?" he asked, sinking down to one knee.

I gasped and watched as Finnick opened a ring box and looked hopefully up at an already crying Annie. She nodded her 'yes' and pulled him up from the ground to hug him. The crowd erupted into a thunderous applause as the mayor congratulated them into the microphone.

I swayed slightly on my feet, a sudden dizzy feeling creeping up on me. My stomach turned weirdly and I felt blood rushing to my head. I gripped Peeta's arm and he laughed. My vision blurred again, flashing black for a moment. I struggled to hold onto his arm as a blurry memory flashed in front of my eyes. It was the diamond – the diamond Gale had tried to give back to me that night in the kitchen. In the memory, I glanced down at the ring and then out into a sea of people. Gale stood beside me, grinning happily as he held up my left hand. Bright sparks of light suddenly blinded me, and all the voices and faces began to swirl into a mass of nonsense. My eyes flashed suddenly as the memory faded but the dizziness did not. I gasped for air and fought to stay standing as the flashes continued.

"Little too much to drink?" he chuckled. I looked up at him with blurry, confused eyes as everything seemed to turn into a dizzying, blurry slow motion. The corners of my vision clouded over and I saw him look at me with confusion.

"Katniss?" he asked in a muffled voice. I felt an uncomfortable warmth creeping up my neck and chest as I struggled to see straight. I blinked and tried to steady myself as there was a crash of breaking glass from Peeta's drink. My knees grew wobbly as the dizziness grew harder and harder to fight. I felt myself hurdling towards the floor before Peeta's hands shot out and caught me.

Then, everything went black.


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Bring It On Home

My left hand felt heavy. Like lead.

I wanted to pull it up and look to see why it felt that way, but I couldn't seem to move. I was trapped.

I felt him shift beside me as we stared down at the wooden box. It was empty though. How did I know it was empty? It was closed.

The scent of gladiolas filled my nose. Funeral flowers, my mother used to say. My eye shifted upwards, settling on the tall, dark red flowers as they towered over the long, slim box. The closed box.

Why was it closed if there was nothing there?

His hand closed around mine like a vice. My throat grew tight as I stared at the empty box.

"We'll get through this Catnip. We always do," he replied in a tight voice.

My head turned upwards, staring up at Gale as he held my hand and called me my childhood nickname.

Gale.

"Why is he gone?" I heard myself ask.

"These things happen," he said, his voice tight. His steely grey eyes stared into mine as he brushed a piece of hair out of my face. His touch was familiar but cold.

His words felt like a lie.

Strange.

"He's gone now Catnip. There wasn't anything we could do to stop this from happening."

"I believe you."

I didn't.

"That's one of the problems with mines…they're so unpredictable," Gale said.

I turned as another person walked up to stand beside him. Mr. Hawthorne, his father, reached down and took my lead-feeling hand in his. I stared at the diamond adorning my finger before raising my eyes up to meet his. It was a large ring – too large. I frowned. No wonder my hand felt like lead.

"We're going to fix this Katniss," he promised, his white head bobbing. Gale's father had never looked so much like a snake before, I realized. His beady eyes reminded me of the copperheads we found in the woods as children. "We're going to take care of you from now on."

I looked over at Gale, who stood beside his father nodding. "It will be okay Katniss. I promise. Just trust me."

I blinked and tried to open my eyes. I knew it was a dream – it was a weird dream at that. My sluggish brain tried to piece together the memory as I floated towards consciousness again. The scene in my mind was real -I knew it. The recollection of that day was strangely something I'd always had in my head but could just now remember. It had been there all along. It was a memory of my father's funeral that we'd had several weeks after the blast. We'd had an empty casket brought into the ceremony – why, I'm not sure. I guess it gave people something to look at while they cried. Gale and I weren't engaged at my father's funeral, but I couldn't help but think it was my brain's way of some super creepy foreshadowing. Of all the things to add to a weird dream like that, why had my head picked that?

I slowly came to, the sluggish feeling of the dream wearing off and the feeling of what was real slowly coming back.

"Katniss?"

I opened my eyes further and saw Peeta leaning over my bed with a worried grimace. Fuck. He probably thought I didn't remember him again.

"Katniss?"

I groaned and held my throbbing head. "We've got to stop meeting like this Mellark."

He sighed and collapsed onto the side of the bed, taking my hand and pressing my knuckles to his lips. He kissed them desperately, his blue eyes closing in relief. "You know me."

"I know you," I confirmed softly. "What happened?"

Peeta's shoulders tensed as he kissed my left hand again, his mouth lingering over my wedding ring. "You collapsed. At first I thought you were just drunk, but….then you wouldn't wake up. Oh my God Katniss…" he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Again," I sighed. "I'm so sorry. Everything went black and I just had this weird….weird dream."

"What happened?" he asked.

I didn't have time to explain. The curtain beside my bed was pulled back and I saw Cinna giving me a strange look.

"You and that head of yours," he said softly, shaking his head. He clicked his tongue at me and moved to my bedside. "I'm writing my next medical article on you, you know that?"

I sighed, sitting up as he motioned for me to lean towards him. He checked my eyes and ears and felt around my skull for anything that I guess wasn't supposed to be there.

"Just cut me ten percent, yeah?"

He snorted. "What happened?"

"I felt dizzy and then everything grew fuzzy and I blacked out. I woke up here…but not before having a weird dream."

He frowned. "Weird how?"

"It was…a memory," I admitted. "Of my father's funeral. That's something I couldn't really remember before now. But it was all weird and jumbled. I was trapped in my body just watching things unfold." I remembered the ring on my hand that felt too big. I hadn't had that ring yet when my father died. Gale had purposed several months after. "And events were all jumbled up. Things didn't make any sense."

Cinna eyed me. "Sounds like that brain of yours is working overtime to figure all this out. You need to go home and rest and stop worrying. I'm more convinced now than ever that things are going to come back to you Katniss. Just slow down and stop overthinking it. I think blacking out was your brain's way of telling you to ease up."

"I'm an over thinker," I mumbled. I looked over at Peeta who appeared so worried and physically exhausted it made my heart tighten. "I'm so sorry," I whispered to him.

He looked away and nodded, but I could see tears of relief glistening in his eyes.

I hoped my memory came back soon – I wasn't sure how much more of this I could take.

We got home around four in the morning. Cinna discharged me and we pulled into the alley behind the bakery and the apartment before the sun was even up. Peeta called Thresh to let him know he wouldn't be in that day and promptly collapsed on the bed. I tried to sleep, but my apprehension kept me from relaxing. What would I dream if I fell asleep? I didn't want any more haunting visions of too-big diamond rings and lead feet and snake eyes.

I shuffled downstairs and sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree instead. I gazed up at the sparkling branches and twinkling lights, sighing deeply. My memory was coming back – Cinna had said it himself. What would I find out when it did? I had the nagging feeling that something was going to happen that I wasn't going to like. A feeling of dread rolled over my limbs as I struggled back and forth with the idea.

The one thing that gave me hope for that time was the fact that I had been able to find happiness back then, and I had managed to find it again in Peeta. I couldn't deny that I looked happy in all the photos I'd seen. I might remember unpleasant things but I would also maybe remember the good along with it. Maybe it wouldn't be all bad having my memory back.

Buttercup came slithering out from his spot beneath the tree, wedged between a few sparse packages. He made a grunting noise as he pushed his scrunched up nose sniffed at my hand before giving it a halfhearted lick. His matted fur looked a little worse for wear as he settled down on the rug beside me to look up at the tree with his golden eyes. The company was nice.

"Oh Buttercup….what am I going to do?"

He looked up at me and made a disgruntled noise in his throat as if to say 'You're on your own'.

Christmas Eve arrived a few days later. I'd tried my best to relax and do as Cinna said, but I could tell it wasn't working. I was tense, Peeta was tense, and it felt like there was a ticking time bomb between us. We knew my memory was going to come back. We should have both been happy, but instead the waiting seemed to make it worse. I didn't know what would come back to me when everything was said and done, and I was apprehensive about it to say the least.

"This will be nice," Peeta hummed, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. We entered the familiar Italian restaurant we'd gone to the last time with Finnick and Annie after my accident. This was their engagement dinner of sorts. We walked to the back room they had rented out for the occasion and set our gift for them on the table with the others. Annie was standing beside Finnick, blissfully oblivious as Finnick beamed down at her. I felt silly for every doubting his affections towards her and it was obvious she did too. She ran up to me and hugged me tighter than most grown men could have.

"I'm so happy for you," I whispered in her ear as we hugged. She pulled away and flashed her diamond ring.

"And to think I thought he was dumping me! He was just so nervous he could hardly even talk to me!" she laughed. I admired her ring for a moment and grinned.

"We had it all wrong."

"I know it! We did, didn't we? Um….well….Will you be my maid of honor? I was yours," she reminded me.

"I will," I laughed. "Just don't make me wear yellow, I look awful in yellow."

"It will be a summer wedding – I'm thinking green!" she promised.

"Green I can do," I laughed, hugging her again.

She hugged me again before we sat down to eat. Peeta sat down beside me and squeezed my knee. I grinned at him and shook my head. "And to think I was upset with you for not telling me they were getting engaged! Annie was worried."

"You would have told!" he chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling. "It was a surprise."

"Fine, fine," I laughed.

"Hey…you okay?" he asked softly. He leaned back as the waiters began serving the food, which all looked and smelled divine.

"Yeah, I'm just….weirded out. I'll be alright."

He looked at me closely and I saw a faint smile appear. "You want to go somewhere after this?"

"Where?" I frowned.

"Just somewhere."

X0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

Peeta put the truck in park and turned to give me a sheepish grin. "Well?"

"Oh my gosh," I sputtered, taking in the scenery. The little lake was tucked up in the hills where I used to hunt and I had stupidly forgotten all about it until now. I'd found it three or four years ago before I'd met Peeta; I couldn't remember telling him about it now though.

"You've been up here with me? I didn't think I'd told anyone about this place."

He hummed happily, killing the engine. "I know. You told me it took you three months to decide to show it to me. You thought I'd like to paint it."

"It would be pretty to paint," I agreed softly. The moonlight shone through the bare trees, showcasing the snow-covered icy lake with a silvery glow. Even frozen and barren with winter it was one of the most beautiful places I'd ever seen. Peeta nodded towards his door and took my hand in his.

"Want to go down there? It's so cold it's frozen solid."

I laughed and nodded. We waded through the deep snow, our gloved hands wound tightly together as we made it down to the lake. It was indeed frozen solid as he's promised, so we walked out onto the surface. I skated forward, sliding my boots against the icy surface. I slid a few inches and turned to give Peeta a bright smile. He returned it tenfold.

This was exactly what I needed.

He mimicked my motions, skating forward on the ice and sliding a few feet. I laughed, the sound echoing off the bare trees. "It's so pretty. I love this place."

"Yeah? I knew you'd like to see it again."

"It's weird, I remember it but I'd just…forgotten."

I stood on the ice and stared out at the frozen forest, my lungs burning slightly from the cold. It was so still and beautiful with the moonlight streaming through the bare, icy branches that it almost hurt to look at it. A canvas of glittering stars served as the backdrop to what I could only describe as the perfect winter night. The light from the waning moon shone through the trees, making the fresh, untouched snow look like acres of white glitter. I watched as Peeta stood beside me, admiring the picture with me. I didn't even have to ask if he was as taken with the beauty of it all as I was; I could see his appreciation for the scene written all over his pale, shining face.

"So perfect," he agreed, seemingly reading my thoughts.

I nodded, turning my head back to stare out at the forest. "You know...from here, all my problems seem so ridiculous," I admitted.

"I know what you mean," he chuckled.

"Being someplace like this makes it all seem so...so small. Trivial almost. Vain."

He smiled in the moonlight and skated a little half circle around me before taking my hand. He twirled me around like we were ice skaters (albeit clumsy ones) and we both laughed.

"We come up here once a month," he said. "I've slacked the past few with everything going on, but…figured this was as nice a Christmas Eve as any."

"I love it," I agreed. We stayed out on the ice together for another few minutes; making snow angels, skating, sliding around on the ice. When we got too cold to do anything else we made the trek up the hill back towards the truck. We collapsed inside together as Peeta fired it up. Heat began rolling out of vents soon enough, effectively thawing us out.

Peeta looked over at me, his soft eyes looking soulful in the dim light. "I love you and I don't care what you remember."

I smiled, letting my head fall back against the seat. "But doesn't it get old trying to revisit these things and remind me all the time?"

He shrugged. "No. I love you. It doesn't matter to me what you can or can't remember. I'll always be here."

I looked over at him and placed my hand on his cheek. "I don't know what I did to deserve you Peeta. But somewhere along the way I must have done something right."

"Is that a line from a country song?" he laughed.

I burst out laughing and shrugged, pulling myself into his lap. We were crammed together and it was incredibly awkward in the cab of his truck, but I didn't care. I just wanted to be near him. I yanked off my gloves and scarf and grinned at him.

"Shut up and kiss me."

"Now I know that's from a song," he chuckled, lifting his head up to meet mine. I leaned forward and let my lips mold against his. His kisses were so much like his personality; soft, meaningful, and always bending to meet me halfway. I licked my way into his mouth as I grasped his square jaw with my hands, coaxing his mouth open wider. His laugh was muffled against my mouth as I settled further into his lap and kissed him deeper. He obliged, opening his mouth and letting my tongue seek its way into his mouth to taste him fully. I could feel his steadily building excitement in his slightly shaky hands as they settled on my waist and pulled me against his groin. His already stiffening arousal was nestled between my legs as I sat wedged between him and the steering wheel.

I broke away from his mouth and it took him a second to open his eyes as he whined in protest.

"Would my ever agreeable boyfriend –slash- husband be game for a little Christmas Eve romp in his truck?"

Peeta looked up at me happily, his eyes hooded and his mouth still glossy with spit. "I would," he agreed in a raspy voice. The deep, rugged timbre of it made my body tingle with anticipation. Peeta was somehow the perfect mash up of clean cut and charming yet ruggedly handsome and spontaneous all the same.

"Mmm, good."

Excitement burned through the air as we quickly stripped off our clothes. I hit my head on the top of the cab twice and I think Peeta cracked his knee on the steering wheel almost three times in an effort to get his pants off. However, soon enough we were naked and settling back into our original position with me on his lap. He ran his hands over my goose bump covered skin and chuckled.

"Is this a tradition too when we come up here?" I asked, although I was almost certain I already knew the answer.

He shrugged. "Perhaps," he grinned coyly.

I met my lips with his and greeted him in a languid kiss that he returned. I could feel his hard length against my abdomen as I twitched in his lap. I wanted him. Not that I usually didn't, but I really wanted to feel him now. An appreciative groan sounded in his chest as I arched my back and gave him better access to the places I wanted his attentions the most. My head rolled back slightly as he took one of my nipples in his mouth and rolled it lightly between his teeth. My muscles clenched with anticipation, curling awkwardly against my skin in the small space. I was going to have one hell of a Charlie horse in my back and legs after this, but I figured Peeta would make sex in a cramped truck worth my while and I wasn't about to complain.

"Ready?" I asked, taking him in my hand. I stroked him softly a few times, feeling him pulse in my grip.

He could only nod. He groaned in enjoyment as I slid his body against mine, effectively joining us. I gasped quietly as he thrust his hips up to meet flush with mine. Our movements didn't stop there. The friction was there right away as I began moving and bobbing on top of him, welcoming his body with my own. Peeta moaned softly, chewing his lip in concentration as I moved above him. I could tell he was trying to make this last, but I was having too much fun egging him on.

Sometimes you needed a quickie I guess. Peeta tried to slow my movements, but it just felt too good to stop. I could feel his body tense under mine as he came.

"No…slow down…argh," he groaned as he pulsed inside of me. I could feel his body relax beneath mine as he looked up at me with a shy look of disappointment.

"Make it up to me later when we're not in a truck in ten degree weather," I laughed, kissing him softly. He gave me another slow kiss before wrinkling his nose.

"I plan on it."

We laughed and got dressed, saying our silent goodbyes to the icy lake. "Promise to bring me back next month?"

"Promise," he chuckled. Even in the dark I could see his cheeks turning pink.

We pulled into town a few minutes later, our teeth still chattering slightly in the single digit weather.

"Let's make something awesome for dinner. We can have a picnic in front of the tree – how's that sound?"

"It sounds amazing, but its Christmas Eve and all the shops are closed. What on earth are we going to make? I haven't been to the store in days," I laughed.

He shrugged. "What's in the fridge?"

I stared at him. "Peanut butter and jelly and some olives."

I could try he was trying his best not to call me a bad wife and laugh. "That's a really random mix. Umm…how about we bake something?"

"What can we bake besides bread and cookies?"

Peeta rubbed his gloved hands together and shrugged. "Are you insinuating that I'd want anything else for dinner besides bread and cookies?"

I grinned. "Corner store is open. You get the supplies from the bakery, I'll get the beer."

We quickly kissed and laughed at each other as we parted to get our supplies. After a quick stop at little convenience store across the street, I hurried back to the bakery. Peeta had a small sack of flour in his hands and a package of chocolate chips hanging from his teeth as he re-locked the front door.

"Choccccalllate chiipph okay?" he asked through the plastic. I snickered and grabbed the bag from his teeth. "Chocolate chip okay?" he laughed as he repeated.

"That's fine. Now's let's get to cooking!"

He quickly mixed up a batch of chocolate chip cookies and had thrown them in the oven right away to sate our appetites, but he claimed the second batch he was making would be our special Christmas cookies. I soon understood why. The second batch he whipped up had different ingredients than the chocolate chip cookies we were eating for dinner – these looked like some sort of elaborate sugar cookie mix. Soon the smells of vanilla and flour mixed together, coating our loft apartment in an enticing aroma that had my stomach grumbling.

I looked over as Peeta's skilled hands carefully transferred another raw dough cutout from the parchment paper to the tray. He did it with such precision and such care that it was almost funny. I felt like I was watching open heart surgery rather than a baker baking sugar cookies. I'd always baked Prim cookies growing up, but never like this. Our cookies always came from a tube of pre-mixed batter and were simply tossed onto the cookie tray with a careless splat.

Peeta baking cookies was an entirely different endeavor.

He'd mixed the dough from scratch to start and had looked at me like I was a crazy woman when I asked how he knew the recipe. "I've known this recipe since I was five," he'd told me with a laugh and kept mixing. I sat perched on the countertop with my winter lager and watched as he doused the countertop with spoonful's of flour and had begun rolling out the dough.

As he carefully rolled out the sweet, sugary smelling dough, out came the cookie cutters.

"Snowflakes," I sighed, watching him expertly craft the ornate cutouts. He grinned at me as he carefully moved his creations from the countertop to the cookie sheet with a special spatula. He baked them for just the right amount of time before removing them from the oven and moving them to his cooling rack. He then proceeded to make a buttercream frosting from scratch that he separated into about seven different bowls. I watched as he made white, light blue, silver, a pale golden yellow, and even some pink. The warm, buttery frosting accepted the pastel colors beautifully, turning slowly into the beautiful colors that somehow all complimented each other.

"They're not Christmassy colors but they'll look nice," he said softly as he filled one of the many frosting bags. I watched him create another bowl of what looked like a glaze that he began carefully dropping onto the snowflake shaped cookies.

"You don't have to tell me. They already look amazing."

He grinned and shook his head. "My dad loves to make cookies like this. He'll be bummed he missed this but he'll at least get to eat them when we go over there tomorrow."

"If I save him any," I joked.

I watched as Peeta began crafting more and more sugar cookies, setting them up on the dining room table to cool. While one batch cooled, we'd outline the next with the sugary frosting and fill them in with the glazes. Once that had hardened, Peeta went through with a bag of white frosting and added the thin, swirling details that gave the sugary treats a look of unity. He handed me the shimmering sprinkles with a little smile and watched as I added as much as I possibly could.

We sat on the couch with our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chocolate chip cookies after that, sipping our beers and gazing up at the tree. Buttercup licked a few traces of cookie from my finger as I leaned against Peeta's arm and stared at the lights until they blurred.

"I can't remember a nicer Christmas….literally," I snorted, grinning up at him.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he sipped his beer. "Nice."

I put my finger on his strong jawline that I loved so dearly and pulled his face to look at mine. "I'm kidding. This is wonderful Peeta."

"I'm glad you like it," he sighed, bumping his head against mine. "Just promise me you'll take it easy on this memory thing, okay? And know that…I'll love you either way."

"I will," I promised. "Merry Christmas, Peeta."

"Merry Christmas, Katniss."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, we had to give these two a Christmas romp at the lake ; ) Speaking of romp! - NIOF was nominated (The makeup shower scene) for an Everlark Smut award! Voting doesn't start until a little later this week, but if you would please give !sexyshowerpeeta! some love, I'd appreciate it! He deserves a little love for his dedication at cleanliness, don't you think? I'll put the link on my profile right now...
> 
> This chapter was named after one of my favorite Little Big Town songs - 'Bring it on Home' - great song if you like country. Seemed fitting for the situation. More soon! Leave some love and have a great week! *muah*


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Battle of Wills

I stood at the top of the steps to our apartment the next day, watching as Peeta dutifully balanced the packages as he climbed the steps. Not wanting to take any chances with my head, he'd insisted on carrying up all the presents his parents had given us for Christmas. My chest ached a little at the measures he was taking to keep me safe…even if it mean jeopardizing his own safety.

I watched the muscles in his forearms flex as he struggled with the unwrapped presents as he climbed the stairs.

Hmm…maybe I can at least put those strong arms to a good, safe use later…I'd like a repeat of that shower we had a few days ago, I thought to myself with a smirk. More than once since the shower makeup sex I'd conjured up the memory of Peeta's head between my legs and gripping the soap dish like it was a lifeline. Something about that night just made me want to clench my thighs together and sigh. A grunt from below shook me back to the present as Peeta made his way up the steep staircase behind the bakery that led up to our apartment.

"Peeta…I can at least help."

"I got it, I got it," he insisted. I opened our door and tried not to laugh as he blindly navigated his way inside. His parents had gifted us with a new mixer, a new set of frying pans, and a down comforter for our bed. I helped him set the presents down before peeling my heavy coat off my shoulders. Christmas day had been a whirlwind. We'd gotten up and had coffee and Christmas cookies while we opened our presents. Peeta had given me a new pair of fur lined boots, some oil for my bow, and a woven gold bracelet that looks so much like my wedding ring it was uncanny. He'd been so happy to give me the sentimental gifts; I'd never forget his smile as I'd unwrapped the gold bracelet.

But had I thought the same thing when he purposed? Or gave me this wedding band? I thought, looking down at my left hand. The simple woven band adorning my ring finger shined back at me in the late afternoon sunlight. It won't matter soon; Cinna said I would remember everything soon enough. I just have to be patient, that's all.

But it was getting harder. I was anxious to have all of my memories come crashing back on me – if that was even how it would happen. Cinna had explained that brains were so much more complex than any other organ in the human body, so he didn't know exactly how it would all return. But the flashes were good – they were a sign that everything was coming back. While I was happy to get it all back, I was unsure of everything that would come along with it.

He slipped out of his coat and instantly wandered over to the kitchen to pick up another sugar cookie. We'd taken half to his parent's house and left half at our apartment to eat later. I was rather happy he was on board with not taking the entire batch over to be devoured – I wasn't ready to let all of the elaborately decorated sugary treats go just yet.

I plucked a beer from the fridge and cracked it open, sighing as the liquid slid down my throat. "I'm not sure your mother cared much for me."

Peeta wrinkled his nose and accepted the beer I handed him. "Katniss…she doesn't care for most things."

I snorted. Mrs. Mellark had been kind to me but cold; a definite change from her warm, endearing husband. Mr. Mellark had hugged and kissed me that morning like I was one of his own kids before insisting I tried out his famous fruitcake. Peeta's brothers had been exactly how he described them: pleasant enough, caught up in work and stumbling through the holidays just like any other person. They'd been the most comfortable when I'd asked them about their work, but hearing about the mundane details of their office jobs had made my eyes glaze over and my robotic smile-and-nod act appear. While their mother had beamed and pressed on for the details about their blossoming careers, Peeta had been shifting in his seat and refusing to meet my eyes. I could tell he was the 'disappointment' in his mother's eyes, which disheartened me greatly. His bakery was a family legacy that meant a lot to our city – it was a small, reliable business that had always thrived despite a sometimes lackluster economy. No matter people's income, they always chose to spend their money in the Mellark Bakery. How his mother could turn her nose up at a steady business and a family owned one at that….I didn't understand. However, something in her cool, icy stare had made me not want to notice.

I could certainly understand why Peeta and his father were the black sheep of the family.

I smiled to myself, just happy to be back in their apartment. It had been a long day with Peeta's family, and I knew tomorrow would be longer. We were going over to the Hawthorne house to have Christmas with my mother and Prim, and I was sure Prim would want to go over more wedding details. For now though, I only wanted to relax with Peeta. I stood in front of the Christmas tree and gazed up at the white lights. This was Christmas to me – a quiet night after all of the chaos was over with Peeta.

I heard his heavy, still slightly uneven footsteps as he approached me from behind. He'd never quite healed from the accident the night I was found, and the doctors thought he might always walk with a slight limp. Peeta maintained it was a limp he would 'wear with pride' and have surgery someday when our finances allowed. I didn't mind - I smiled over my shoulder as he walked up behind me and gave my body a tight squeeze.

"Merry Christmas. Thank you for dealing with my family today," he murmured into the side of my neck. I couldn't help but smile as the hairs on the back of my neck suddenly stood up. His warm breath seemed to wind over my neck and shoulders, sliding an erotic buzz of pleasantness down my spine. I shivered against his chest and leaned into his embrace as he pressed his lips to the spot behind my ear. The gesture was innocent enough, but made me feel something more.

"My pleasure. It was nice to re-meet them."

Peeta snorted and placed another lingering kiss on the back of my neck. "No it wasn't, but you're nice for saying so."

"Fine," I chuckled. "I'm happy to be home with you now though, and that's the truth."

I turned in the circle of his arms to face him with a grin. My heart beat a little faster as he grinned down at me and touched his nose to mine.

"You were the best gift I ever got, you know that?"

"You're lying," I laughed. "Sap." He was standing so close he was making my crossed eyes go out of focus as I stared at him.

"No, I'm not," he promised. "I never saw you coming and even when I did finally get to know you I had no idea you'd ever pick someone like me to share your life with."

"You're too kind," I whispered before closing the distance between us. I placed a soft, gentle kiss on his mouth and waited for his response. I heard him inhale softly before returning the kiss to my lips. They broke out into a grin without my control as he kissed them again and again and again.

I could kiss him a thousand times and never grow tired of it.

His tongue touched my lips, softly at first, before plunging past them and into my mouth. I welcomed it as our gentle little kisses became borderline frantic as we stood in front of the Christmas tree. I wrapped my arms around his neck and anchored his mouth to mine as he pulled me up against his broad, sturdy body. We both smiled and shared a little laugh as it became obvious that this was not just going to be an innocent little kiss in front of the Christmas tree.

My fingers slid around to the front of his body, working at the tiny buttons on the front of his flannel shirt. He gasped against my mouth as I finally worked the last one open and pushed it from his shoulders. He reached behind my back and deftly unsnapped my bra with one hand through my long sleeved shirt.

I leaned back and gave him a look of disbelief. "Did you seriously just do that?"

"I seriously did," he deadpanned, reaching for the button on my jeans. I laughed as he pushed them down past my butt and gave me an expectant look.

"Those are skinny jeans, there's no way I can successfully push them off of you," he chuckled. "They're like…painted on."

"Oh…"

"I never understood how girls could wear pants that tight. And some guys."

I chewed my lip and gave him a saucy look. "You don't like my tight jeans?"

His mouth twisted into the little sheepish grin that I enjoyed as he raised one eyebrow at me. "I never said that."

I smirked and gave him a wanton look. "How badly do you want them off?"

Peeta's eyes widened slightly in jest as he bumped his forehead with mine. "Let's just say I want them off."

The silly yet urgent tone in his voice was enough to let me know he meant business – business I wanted to be a part of. I laughed and held onto his hands as I kicked and peeled my way out of the pants. Peeta pulled his undershirt off and flung it to the side of the living room. I watched it catch on the new easel I'd gotten him for Christmas and we both laughed. I pulled off my own shirt and already unclasped bra before tossing them in the easel's direction.

"We don't want your shirt to be lonely," I whispered, running my hands up his chest. I chewed my lip as my fingers reaccustomed themselves with the broad, pale skin and sparse golden hairs that decorated his chest. I heard him suck in a breath as my short nails scraped him lightly before pulling his mouth back to mine. He barely had time to kick off his jeans before I pulled him to the rug in front of the tree.

"I love unwrapping you," he practically growled. I barked out a laugh.

"Am I really that nice of a present?"

"I told you," he said, nipping at my lower lip. "Best one I ever got."

We collapsed in a half naked heap and had to chuckle at our clumsiness. We'd been too sleepy and in a rush to get to his parents' house that morning for any Christmas nooky, so I would happily accept a romp in front of our tree before the day was over. I grinned to myself as Peeta frantically kissed down my neck and chest, lightly palming my breasts like they were a new present.

"Is it bad that I really need you?" he asked in a throaty whisper. I looked up at him as he hovered carefully over me. His blue eyes shone with the lights of the Christmas tree reflecting off his perfect blue irises. With his swollen lips and ruddy cheeks and shining eyes he looked every bit an angel.

An angel I wanted to defile beneath the Christmas tree, that is.

I shook my head. "No. I'll allow it."

A weak gasp slipped from my lips as I tightened my hold around his neck, my fingers touching the fine hairs at the base of his scalp. He lowered himself onto me, his hand tracing the now-familiar path down my bare stomach. He paused and traced the line of my underwear before I gave a frantic little mewl of protest. I wasn't in the mood to be teased. Peeta laughed and hovered over me as his fingers slid down, pushing my underwear to the side to touch me.

My back arched off the rug as he groaned and pressed me tightly against him, sucking and kissing his way down my chest. His hand continued its motions below, making me quickly lose track of time. I stared up at the open space above us, the patterns on the loft ceiling blurring together as his fingers lovingly navigated my wetness. My hands shook as I lifted his mouth to meet mine, kissing him urgently as the tell-tale tightness began forming in my belly. Peeta kissed me back and didn't stop; within seconds, the feeling had doubled in power and I gasped into his bare shoulder as the euphoric tide swept over me.

I exhaled in short, choppy waves as the throbbing seemed to taper off. My eyes slowly regained their ability to focus as my limbs turned to nothingness. I felt like I could float as I moved my gaze to Peeta's. He gave me a grin and gently removed his hand, his lips giving me a lazy kiss in response. I lost the ability to speak as he rose up, gently nudging my legs apart with his hand. My eyes traveled down the firm expanse of his chest and stomach, resting on the happily protruding member between his own legs. I knew what was coming.

"Is this okay?" he asked quietly.

I could only nod as he gave me another boyish grin complete with a 'fuck me' gaze. I was powerless to his eyes.

Peeta's warm, slightly calloused hands dipped down, grasping my knees. He pulled them to either side of his waist anchoring us together before pressing his manhood against me. The warm head of his arousal seemed to throb with need as our bodies finally touched in the most intimate places.

"This is more than okay," I hummed, reaching out. My fingertips could barely reach, but it was enough to touch him casually. My nails scraped his abdomen lightly, a visible shudder running through his limbs as he stared down at me.

"I want you," he groaned, pushing his hips forward. He filled me slowly, letting my walls stretch to accommodate him. I watched from the rug as his jaw clenched, the fine bones of his face rolling as he locked his teeth. I knew he was feeling the same sweet agony as I was as he withdrew and penetrated me again, his cock sliding into me with little resistance. Our eyes met and we exchanged a knowing look. He remained on his knees for a few more slow, wonderful thrusts before lowering himself down to hover above me. I angled my hips and kept my knees up in the air, crossing my ankles at the base of his spine. The new angle sent more waves of pleasure rolling over my limbs.

Peeta's raspy breaths echoed in my ears as he pulled our again, only to thrust back in with more force. I cried out in pleasant surprise as he began to brush soft kisses over my neck and chest. One of his hands reached back and held my leg up firmly as he increased his force and speed. I began to see stars again as his familiar moans filled my ears. I inhaled deeply as I clenched around his manhood, his actions not going to waste. We both cried out as I lifted my hips and arched my back again with delight. Another strangled moan came from my mouth without my permission as we crashed together on the rug in front of the tree. Peeta let go of my leg, urgently dipping his free hand between us as the other held his place above me. I cried out again as he began rubbing my center with renewed vigor.

"Would you rather…be in bed?" He grunted between thrusts.

I squeezed my eyes shut as I tried to concentrate. It just felt so good…

"N-no," I stammered. I didn't want to move and risk shattering the delicious friction we'd created. His fingers began moving in synch with his thrusting hips and I was chewing my lip so hard I tasted blood.

"You're so close," he whispered raspily in my ear. "I can feel how close you are. Shit Katniss…"

"Peeta," I groaned, tightening even more. My body sang out in relief as the tightness in my abdomen spread, promising a release that would more than satisfy me.

He chuckled and pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue swirling playfully as he tasted me. He tastes like sugar and candy, I errantly thought. Another pleasured cry came from my mouth as he thrust against me with purpose.

"You're so close…tell me what you want," he groaned, nipping my lip again.

"More," I begged in a warbled tone. My knees fell open a little wider as he continued to move against me. My center ached as he touched me; my body so close to teetering over the edge it was maddening. "Faster."

Peeta didn't disappoint. Ever muscle in his body seemed to clench as he drove himself harder against my hips. A squeaky board beneath the rug began to creak in time with our bodies.

"Oh God Peeta, don't stop!" I cried out. The board continued to groan and creak as I trembled and lost ability to think straight. I came in waves, my orgasm catapulting me into a bliss I wasn't sure I'd felt before. Peeta rose up on his knees and gave me another knowing look as his fingers slowed. My center burned with sensitivity as he eventually stopped and pulled his hand away.

"Thank you," I mouthed quietly. He nodded, reaching up to brush his sweaty hair away from his temple. He griped my knees and stared down at me, silently asking for his own release. I smiled in answer and gripped what I could of the rug as he bit his lip and increased his speed again. The board beneath my back creaked again and again as Peeta's hips crashed against mine. Peeta groaned my name in a voice just above a whisper as he clenched his eyes closed. I felt his member twitch inside me, his body stilling momentarily. His blue eyes opened slowly and I gave him a look that told him I knew the feeling. He collapsed on top of me seconds later, his head falling to rest on my chest.

"Oh my God," he gasped.

I laughed and welcomed his clammy head on my chest, running my fingers through his hair. I could feel the dampness of sweat on his brow and hair but I didn't mind. We could shower later. This moment was too beautiful to rush. His manhood slipped from my body and a feeling of slight emptiness washed over me.

I was truly happy being with him like we just were.

Peeta seemed to sense this and nuzzled closer, tucking his head in the crook of my neck and sighing into my hair. We hugged each other tight; the only sounds our labored breath. I stared up at the Christmas tree above us and couldn't contain my smile.

I pulled at the hem of my shirt and sighed. I never felt like I was dressed up enough here, which I hated. I hated that I cared. Peeta shifted beside me and I knew him enough to know he felt the same way.

Prim rolled her eyes as her future mother in law made Posy stand up and show off her new ridiculously priced high heels. "Aren't they wonderful?" Hazelle trilled, taking a long sip of wine. I tried to wrinkle my nose as I realized Posy's shoes probably equaled our rent for a month.

Peeta shifted next to me on the couch, his brows furrowed with worry. He seemed to feel genuine concern that Posy was wearing such a monstrosity. "Should a twelve year old girl need shoes that high?"

I smirked. "No sane woman needs shoes that high."

We were at the Hawthorne house the next day having Christmas with my mother and Prim. Mr. Hawthorne was already back to work, supposedly hammering out the details of some deal that would take them to 'another level'. Another level of what, I wasn't sure. Perhaps snobbiness. Prim and Rory were on the floor in front of the tree, sitting together and watching with disinterest as Posy handed out more useless gifts. I watched my sister unwrap a hideous scarf and smile brightly for a few seconds.

"This will go nicely with my Burberry coat. Thank you Hazelle."

"Which Burberry?" she asked, sipping her mimosa.

Prim twirled a lock of curly hair and smiled. "The white."

"Ah yes, that one."

I bit back a laugh and leaned into the back of the couch. Who had more than one coat? And who on earth had more than one Burberry coat? The entire thing was ludicrous. I imagined Prim's closet to look like Cher's did in Clueless. The scene in front of me seemed as ridiculous as that movie, or perhaps even more so. I watched Posy teeter over to her mother and thank her for the black shoes with the dangerously high heels.

Gale was in the leather armchair in front of the fireplace of the living room, leaning forward and checking his phone every ten seconds. His eyes caught mine and he tried to hold my gaze. I looked away and took Peeta's hand in mine as I leaned into his side. Oblivious, he gave me a warm smile and wrapped his arm comfortingly around my shoulders. He could sense that I was uncomfortable in the Hawthorne home and I had made him promise not to leave my side for even a second.

Prim stood, tossing the scarf back into the box to come flop beside me on the couch. "So what did Santa bring you this year?"

I smiled as Peeta gave my knee a reassuring squeeze. "Peeta got me some hunting gear that I needed and this," I said, softly touching my new bracelet. Prim admired it for a moment and gave Peeta a little grin. "That's pretty."

"I love it," I sighed.

Prim blew out a bored breath beside me, holding up her wrist. "I told Rory no presents since the wedding is in a few days, but…."

My eyes caught the sight of the diamond studded Rolex adorning her thin wrist and I felt my eyes bulge. "A Rolex? Seriously?"

She shrugged. "I guess I needed a watch."

I snorted and shook my head, downing another glass of champagne. It was only just after lunch time but I didn't think I could be around this group without the aid of some alcohol. Cinna told me to limit my alcohol intake for the time being, but this family was such a fucking joke. Was there ever any limit to their ridiculousness? I swirled the bubbling drink around my tongue and couldn't be happier that I had ended up with a man like Peeta. A man who value relationships and meaningful things over this bullshit.

"Come get another drink with me."

"Aren't you supposed to limit it?" he whispered after me as I moved towards the bar in the corner of the room. I shrugged.

"If I pass out again it would just be an excuse to leave," I reminded him. He wrinkled his nose and allowed me to pour him another shot of Gale's favorite scotch into the tumbler I his hand. My shoulders tensed as I listened to Gale's approaching footsteps.

"Did you have a nice Christmas, Catnip?"

The old nickname made me cringe then and it made me cringe now. "Fine thanks. How was yours? Get any work done?"

Gale tolerated my jab and shrugged. "As much as I could. The business world doesn't stop for holidays anymore. These days it's full steam ahead no matter what day of the year it is. You know how it is though."

I poured myself a rather gracious glass of champagne and set it back into the ice bucket with a clatter. Prim shot me an annoyed yet pleading look from across the room and Rory offered me an amused smirk. Hazelle didn't even blink. I guess she was used to her kids being obnoxious by now.

Gale sighed and shook his head, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like that."

Peeta shifted uncomfortably beside me and sighed softly as I shook my head. "Well, but you do. Sound like that, I mean."

Gale's grey eyes took on a pleading tone as he looked down at me. "It's Christmas, Catnip. I don't want to fight with you. I'm sorry."

"Fine," I said lowly, taking a sip of my drink. "Did you have a nice Christmas?"

"Very nice. My future sister in law got me a nice pair of cufflinks and Rory even got me a lit display case for my watches. Dad's gift came in paper form, if you know what I mean."

I bit my tongue. I didn't ask what you got, I asked how your damn holiday was, I thought.

"What did Santa end up bringing you this year? Anything good?" he asked with disinterest.

I tried not to roll my eyes as I pulled back the sleeve of my sweater to show off the gold bracelet from Peeta. "Peeta gave me this bracelet to match my ring," I stated proudly. Peeta playfully pinched my side and grinned proudly.

Gale turned his head and looked over at my wrist with a snide look and nodded. "It's cute."

Peeta chuckled bitterly and shook his head. I felt him sigh deeply beside me in an effort to control his annoyance over Gale's blatant put down. "Our friends got engaged recently," Peeta choked out. I could tell he was hoping to change the subject and pull my mind away from ripping out Gale's throat in a fit of anger.

"Oh?" he countered back.

"Yes. Our friend Annie is an artist who recently had a gala downtown. The mayor selected her art to be hung in the visitors' center and her boyfriend, my good buddy Finnick chose the night to pop the question."

"Quite a night for her," Gale mused, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, well," Peeta chattered pleasantly, "it was a very nice night. I'm happy for them."

"Well…engagements are fickle. Who knows…they might not even make it to the wedding," Gale added lowly. I rolled my eyes and tried to move the conversation along as I felt Peeta's hand on my waist twitch in annoyance.

"It was nice until I ruined it," I added with a shake of my head. "I hope no one remembers that."

"You?" Gale asked. He reached over to refill his drink again as his grey eyes darted back to mine. A chill ran down my spine as he turned back to me with renewed interest.

Peeta nodded. "Katniss had an episode, but it turned out to be a blessing in disguise," he said calmly, turning to Gale. I watched him clench his jaw as his face became a tad serious. "Turns out, her memory is slowly coming back."

Gale bit down on an ice cube he'd been sucking on. The crack drew my eye and I looked at him questioningly. He stared at Peeta and Peeta stared back at him. They seemed to be suddenly locked in some battle of wills that I didn't understand. Part of me didn't want a silly cock fight while our families were celebrating Christmas, but the other part of me was intrigued with this new show of wills. Peeta clenched his jaw and didn't back down at Gale stared at him.

"You don't say?" Gale murmured.

Peeta gave him a curt nod. I watched as the two men stared each other down as I stood between them, nervously gripping my glass of champagne. Peeta's blue eyes were nothing short of intense and steely as he stared at Gale.

"Yeah. Funny thing, really. According to her doctor the flashes of memories she's been having lately are a sign that her memory is going to come back soon."

Gale shifted. "You never told me about this Catnip. Since when are you remembering things?"

I watched his Adam's apple bob nervously as looked over at me with a questioning gaze. There was something in his eyes I hadn't seen in forever. Was it panic? My stomach turned to lead as I realized Gale Hawthorne was suddenly quite unsettled.

Huh.

I rubbed my lips together and gave him a flippant answer. "You never asked."

"You never come around much anymore," he countered quickly.

"What's the point?" I snapped. Peeta's hand on my waist tightened slightly as he took a long sip of his scotch.

"So…what are you suddenly remembering?"

"Why?" I asked. "Something you'd rather I not?"

Gale quickly reclaimed his cool and shrugged again. "No. I'm just interested that you're suddenly remembering things again."

"You look interested," I sighed. "Any reason why that might be?"

"No," he insisted. He raised his glass and clinked it with mine. "To health. I only want you to get better, Catnip."

Peeta shifted again. "Doc said it could happen slowly or all at once. We'll just never know."

"Memories are a funny thing," Gale said with a tight voice. It was a voice that said he had much more to say but wouldn't dare. I'd pushed his buttons more than enough for the day and didn't want to start anything. Perhaps time would tell.

I gave a bitter snort and took another sip of my drink. "You'd be right about that."


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Front Row

An icy blast of air hit my face as we walked out of the Hawthorne house several hours later. I winced and shielded my cheeks from the wind as Peeta opened up the door for me to climb into his truck. He turned the key and let it roar to life, his breaths coming out in little white puffs of air in the December chill.

I felt unsettled and like I had a million questions all at once. Glancing over at him, I saw that he was staring straight forward with his lips pressed into a thin, tight line. He looked as irritated as I felt.

I couldn't fight the feeling that something really odd was up. I wanted to know what it was to put a halt to this tumultuous feeling that had settled back over my life. I felt like our cocoon of holiday closeness had suddenly be popped like a balloon and we were being shoved back into the eye of the storm. I struggled to find my voice.

"Is there something you're not telling me about all this?" I asked.

Gale's behavior tonight had been nothing short of spooky. I didn't know what to think after he and Peeta had their weird little stare down while talking about my memory. What did it all mean? I'd never seen my calm, easygoing husband look so perturbed. The only other time he'd looked that angry was the night Gale crashed our 'first' date at that fancy French restaurant. That night was still fresh in my mind; as terrifying as it had been to see Peeta look like he was going to lurch over the table and punch Gale's lights out, a fight was the last thing my family needed now. With a start, I realized that Peeta truly was my family now. I also realized that I trusted his word over anyone back inside the house.

Peeta cleared his throat and looked straight ahead.

"Gale is your friend…I…don't want to say anything that might complicate that or make you feel like…weird."

I set my jaw and shook my head. "No, Gale is my ex-fiancé and my sister is marrying his brother, Peeta that hardly makes us friends. What aren't you telling me?"

An ugly silence loomed between us as Peeta visibly searched for the right words. "I don't…know anything, Katniss. I just…don't know what to think about that whole situation sometimes. I just really wish Prim wasn't marrying into that family and we could afford to put your mother someplace else. There…I said it," he replied guiltily. I raised an eyebrow and looked over at him again. His own eyebrows were furrowed deep into his forehead and he was gripping the truck's steering wheel with this gloved hands. "Does that make me a bad person that I would want those things? Because I feel terrible about it sometimes. But…that's the truth," he stuttered awkwardly. I could tell my question had flustered him somewhat.

I sighed and shrugged. Peeta wasn't telling me anything aloud that I didn't already want to scream every time I walked into that house. He wasn't alone in wishing these things, certainly not by a long shot. I twisted my hands in my lap as the truck rumbled in place and looked over at him. Shame was laced in his pretty blue eyes after his confession.

"I wish she wasn't marrying him either, but…what can I do?"

Peeta shrugged. "Exactly. Today was so…random. They're odd – that's not just me, right?"

I had to snort. "No, Peeta, that's definitely not just you."

He nodded. "Alright. Good. Because I was really worried when everyone seemed to be happy about Posy's hooker heels."

I barked a laugh and shook my head at my lap. "Right? Hazelle is completely delusional."

Peeta laughed too, his broad shoulders shaking with giggles as the truck's engine finally slowed, signaling that it was ready to go. Peeta shifted it into drive and held his foot on the brake as he looked over at me with a fading smile.

"I'm…I'm sorry I don't make enough money to put your mom someplace else that's as nice as this place," he lamented, his eyes flashing up to the house behind us.

It was difficult to not let the looming mansion's shadow cover every corner of your mind in self doubt.

"Don't be," I sniffed. "Don't be sorry for something you have no control over. My mom is barely forty five Peeta – what if she needs care like this for the rest of her life? We can't afford that. That would drain us of every penny we ever owned and we'd never be able to live. My mom and I weren't that close before but I know she wouldn't want that if she was in her right mind. No one would. And no one blames you; they blame me maybe, but certainly not you."

He sighed and leaned his head back against the headrest before easing up on the break and letting the truck start to roll. I placed my hand on his thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. His eyes flicked over to mine before pulling out onto the main road.

"I'm just not sure how this is going to be resolved. I still feel like it's my fault."

"It's not," I insisted. Peeta grumbled and shook his head.

"I can't make Prim not marry Rory, but I could take your mother out of there. That would solve half the problem."

"Be realistic."

"I wish I was, that's the issue. I keep scouring my mind for a way to remove their hooks from your poor mother."

"Peeta…"

"I feel like a failure," he insisted.

I sighed and turned to look out the window at the scenery flashed by. Peeta sulked the entire way home, even dragging his feet up the steps to our apartment. He slowly made his way to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, his slumped shoulders and grumpy expression betraying his normally sunny disposition. I could tell that he was genuinely hurt that he couldn't do more to help me separate myself from a family that was clearly toxic. I didn't disagree with him; I couldn't stop Prim, but my mother's situation was highly fixable. I wasn't stupid though; to match the quality of private care she was receiving day after day in the Hawthorne home would take thousands of dollars that we simply didn't have. It was far from Peeta's fault that his comfortable but modest income from his trade wasn't enough to cover the cost. However, I could see from his forlorn expression that it deeply bothered him not to be able to help.

I shrugged out of my coat and walked over to the kitchen area to stand in front of him.

"No pouting," I whispered, shaking my head at him. I scanned his face, noticing a few more winkles in place around his forehead and eyes. I felt like I'd made him worry so much these past few months that I was entirely responsible.

His only response was a halfhearted, crooked smile. "I'm not pouting." He gave me a petulant scowl that made him look boyish.

"Yes, yes you are. You are pouting about something you have no control over Peeta. Please don't let this upset you."

"I just don't want your mother there anymore," he insisted. "It's not good for you to have to go back there and….see him."

I frowned. "Is this about Gale?"

Peeta shrugged and took a dejected sip of his water. His brows were furrowed and his jaw was set in a firm line. "Maybe a little," he growled quietly, refusing to meet my eyes. I stared at him with a bewildered look. Did he really need more convincing that I wanted him and not Gale? I would have thought the choice to be obvious, but it apparently was not.

"You think I still want Gale?"

"No," he spat, shaking his head. He clenched his jaw again, the firm muscle of his cheek rolling slightly. "I just…I hate that he can provide something you need and…I can't," he added quietly. "It's….caveman and primitive of me to want to provide you with something I know but…especially someone as independent as you. But I do. I consider family one of your basic needs and the idea that I can't complete that circle for you bugs me. It bugs me that Gale has more money than he would ever know what to do with but that I'm the one that could actually make you happy with it."

"First of all, you do make me happy. My mother…I wish I could change that but I can't. I rolled my eyes and slid my still chilled hands up his forearms as he leaned against the counter. "This isn't about Gale, or Gale's money. It's not even Gale's money – it's his father's company's money."

"Which Gale will someday own."

"Right-"

"-Doesn't that bother you though?"

"Doesn't what?"

"That much money. He can do anything and I…can't," he repeated. His blue, mournful eyes flicked up to meet mine. "I would do anything to be able to have that much money if it meant I could make you happy and take care of your mom. Anything Katniss."

"I know you would. But I wouldn't want that much money for anything if it meant I had to be with him instead of you, alright? Gale and I didn't work once; I don't need to repeat the experience to know it wouldn't work a second time Peeta – I know it wouldn't. We broke up for a reason, and…I have to trust that it was a good one."

"You're right. I guess I'm just feeling…inferior," he whined, wrinkling his nose.

"It's hard not to feel two inches tall when they're standing on a mountain," I sighed.

"A mountain of dollar bills," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"Yeah, and look what it's done to them," I pointed out. "They're greedy, self-involved, and completely out of touch with reality. Watching them today was like having front row seats to a train wreck reality show. You think they were always like that? No," I scoffed. "Hazelle was like a second mother to me. She used to get me off the school bus when my mother had to go to work and she'd make me Hamburger Helper for dinner without meat because that's all they could afford. They lived in the same crappy house as I grew up in, only theirs was a block away from ours. Rory was a shy little kid who followed me and Gale around like a lost puppy. Gale helped his father chop up an old wooden dresser once just to heat the house during the winter. They couldn't even pay the heating bill."

Peeta looked up in surprise and I nodded. "They weren't always like that," I assured him. "Money changed them, and not for the better."

"I guess it did."

"Right, well…we can't change that. They are who they are and I'm sure there's a reason they're so rich but…"

I paused as an unreadable look crossed Peeta's face. I frowned and watched as it skittered away just as fast as it had appeared. "What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he muttered. I shifted my weight and looked up at him as he stood against the counter with his thick arms crossed. The thick sinews of muscles stretched and flexed as he remained there with a clenched jaw and hard eyes.

Leaning forward, I placed a timid peck on his unyielding lips. He sighed in frustration against my mouth as his expression softened. "I'm sorry," he hummed, his shoulders slumping a little. I leaned forward again, offering him a crooked smile.

"I don't know why; you have nothing to be sorry for," I promised him. Peeta didn't look convinced. He swallowed roughly and I watched his Adam's apple bob slightly with the movement. I reached forward, cupping his stubbly jaw in my hand as I kissed him again. He slowly responded, his movements still a little guarded.

"I'm not really…"

"Oh, I bet I can change that," I whispered, moving down to lightly nip at his jaw. I heard him suck in a breath of air and hold it as I kissed and sucked my way across his jawline and on down his neck. He was wearing a white V-neck undershirt with a flannel shirt over it that day, allowing my mouth to not break contact with skin until I was in the middle of his chest. I grinned wickedly and pushed the flannel from his arms. Peeta's mouth twitched as he fought a smile and tried to keep up his pouting.

I however had other ideas.

I smirked at him as I pushed the thin fabric of his white undershirt up, scraping my thumbnails across his nipples. I watched a jolt run through him as he jumped slightly as the touch registered with him and made his eyes spark. I watched them dilate and darken in response as I inched my hips forward and pinned him against the counter. I could feel his hardening arousal against my thigh as I held him there against me, rubbing against him suggestively. I could smell his light, familiar scent of baked bread and cinnamon mixed in with his cologne he wore. The smell made me clench my thighs together tightly in response as I let the smell of him flood my senses. I wanted him. To let him know how much I wanted him, I reached down and lightly cupped him through his worn jeans as I pulled my lip into my teeth. A promising hard-on was trapped against his thigh by the garments.

"So you dress left?" I quipped with a laugh.

Peeta guffawed quietly, throwing his head back against the cabinets behind him. I slid my hands down and fumbled with the top button on his worn blue jeans before leaning forward and lightly nipping his jaw. I felt his body tense and recoil slightly as he moved to kiss me on the mouth. I kissed him passionately back as I unzipped his pants and pushed them down. His hands were soon fumbling with my top as I palmed him through his underwear. He was warm and thick and mine. I sighed into his mouth and shook my head as he continued pushing my shirt up.

"No no," I insisted, clucking my tongue at him. "Tonight is about you."

Peeta groaned loudly as I sunk to my knees in front of him. His eyes widened. "What are you doing?"

I gave him a wicked grin and palmed him again through his underwear.

"Touching you," I answered innocently.

"In the kitchen?" he asked incredulously.

"Haven't we done this before?" I asked, pulling down his boxers. His manhood sprung free, welcoming my palm as I gently stroked him. He hissed at the contact, but it was a good noise and not at all in protest of my ministrations.

"You don't want me to stop, do you?"

"What?" he asked, his eyes flying open. I ran my hand up and down his length and held it dangerously close to my mouth. He groaned and could only nod as I gave his length an introductory lick. I felt him twitch against my hand as I took his tip into my mouth and lightly sucked. I'd never done this to Peeta (that I could remember) and was actually looking forward to it. He'd serviced me with his mouth more than once and I was looking forward to returning the favor.

"Oh! It feels too good…I'm not gonna last," he keened, clenching his eyes shut.

"Shhh," I hushed him, placing a kiss on the underside of his tip. He shook with a pleased tremor as I took him into my mouth for a moment and released him. "I told you; tonight is about you."

I gripped his thick base, happy for once that he wasn't impossibly long but instead gifted in girth. I took as much of him into my mouth as I could muster, sucking lightly and moaning in approval. Peeta gripped the counter and banged his head against the cabinets.

I released him with a pop and looked up at him with my best wanton stare. "I want you to feel good, Peeta," I urged. Alright, so I wasn't normally this eager to work his ego at the drop of a hat, but I knew he needed it tonight. Instead of waiting for him to answer, I gripped him tighter and bobbed my head up and down. I worked my way back to his tip, licking it suggestively and meeting his eyes. I lifted my hand up as I worked, my palm sliding over his stomach and abdomen to apply a light pressure. I felt his member twitch in my hand before I took him again.

"Does this feel good?" I purred between passes. My eyes flicked up to meet his again and he could only barely nod. I grinned to myself and gripped his base with both hands as I ran my mouth over him again and again. He was getting close, but I wasn't about to stop.

"Oh Katniss…fuck!" he hissed loudly, gripping the counter. I heard it creak under his grasp but I continued anyway. He moaned loudly as he came, tensing in my hand and banging loudly on the half open cabinet door by his hand.

"Holy shit! Oh, God, I'm-"

"WILL YOU KEEP IT DOWN IN THERE!"

We both froze (well, Peeta as much as he could mid-orgasm) and stared at each other with wide eyes. He exploded into my hand, his warm semen forgotten as I panicked. A banging noise followed the voice on the other side of the wall, followed by a few hard smacks. My eyes widened as I realized who it was that was yelling at us. Haymitch!

"THE LAST FUCKING THING I WANT TO HEAR AT NIGHT IS YOU TWO!" he bellowed. He smacked the wall a few more times. "You hear me?"

"Sorry!" Peeta croaked, already pulling up his boxers. I swatted his thigh from my place on the floor and rolled my eyes. I couldn't fight the giggle that bubbled up through my chest as I realized how silly we were. We had gotten caught by Haymitch! I could hardly think of anything more embarrassing.

He wasn't about to let me forget it either. I opened Abernathy's the next day for the day shift and awkwardly started work as Haymitch sat at the bar and did the schedule and payroll. His eyes flicked up to meet mine and I coughed awkwardly.

"I take it you and Blondie made up," he sniffed, turning his attention back to his books. He shook his empty glass at me, the ice cubes clinking together loudly. I rolled my eyes and gingerly yanked the glass tumbler from his hand.

"We did. Thank you for noticing."

Peeta had helped me clean myself up afterwards, hastily tiptoeing out of the kitchen and up to our bedroom. He'd collapsed on our bed in his boxer briefs and buried his head in the pillows to laugh like a little kid. I'd joined him, eager to help him continue to forget what he'd even been upset about in the first place.

He snorted and sipped his drink. "Wouldn't be the first time. Look kid, I realize you're all young and in love but Jesus, would it kill you to keep it down?"

"Sorry," I offered lamely. "I really am," I added as he glanced at me skeptically. "Believe me, I didn't want my boss to hear me-"

"-hold it right there. Enough, I don't….need a visual," he groaned with a grimace. "Just keep it down, that's all I ask."

"Fine," I agreed, pouring him a fresh drink. It broke my heart to be serving him a double when it was barely noon, but I knew better than to try to help Haymitch limp through a day completely sober. He was an alcoholic but a functioning one.

"How's that memory coming along?" he asked, smacking his lips at the taste of his drink. He looked up at me with a rare, clear eyed gaze.

"Fine I guess. Head doc thinks it's all going to come flying back like magic, but…."

"But you don't think so?"

"I don't know what to think," I admitted. "I don't know what I'll remember and what I've maybe been purposely blocking out."

Haymitch shrugged. "I'd help you if I could kid, but we didn't really talk real personal-like before your accident. I didn't know much about your life other than the fact that you're married to a baker that's too good for you and you don't like to talk about your personal life."

"Screw off," I laughed, flicking my wet hands at him. He blinked and grinned a little. "Fine, fine. But I'm just saying'."

"I know Haymitch, I know. And…we'll try to keep it down from now on."

He shook his head and turned his attention back to his books at the empty bar while I cleaned the classes. "Thanks, sweetheart."

Prim huffed beside me and tossed her iPad onto the ottoman in front of us. We were sitting in the plush side room off the entryway of the house the next day and I was helping her sort through her place cards. We were trying to get the tables somewhat set up for her wedding reception that would take place the day after tomorrow on New Year's Eve. Well, I was trying to organize the place cards.

Prim was busy flipping out over what I'm sure was a minute detail.

"I can't help but notice that something's wrong," I muttered as she flipped her hair angrily. Her blue eyes darted up to mine and she made a face.

"Are you being sarcastic or actually offering to help? I can never tell," she huffed.

"Prim..."

"Rory still hasn't written his vows. The wedding is less than two days away!"

"Relax. Guys always put things like this off."

"Would Peeta?" she questioned.

"Um…well probably not, but that's just how Peeta is," I shrugged. She picked up her phone and gaped at the message displayed on the shiny screen.

"What is it?"

"He wants me to write his vows for him. Typical," she huffed, tossing the phone back down. I frowned and shook my head. No amount of money could be worth a man who didn't even want to write his own wedding vows, but that was just me. My mind struggled to conjure up a memory of my wedding with Peeta, but my stubborn brain didn't want to cooperate.

Yet.

"I'm gonna go try to place these. Will you come out in about twenty minutes and make sure they're alright?"

"Yes," she said softly. I noticed the dejected tone in my little sister's voice and almost asked her about it, but thought better. Prim was stubborn to a fault, insisting she was right until she was completely backed into a corner with no way out. I chewed my lip as I got up and left the room – she was going to be in a corner soon, but it was the kind that came with matching rings and a promised eternity together. Call me crazy, but Prim and Rory's love didn't seem the stuff a happy eternity was made out of.

I walked out of the side room by the front door and paused, still taken aback by the sheer grandness of the entryway of this house. Even though I hated what it stood for it was still magnificent: A skylight shone down on the marble floors, illuminating the double staircase and elaborate Christmas tree that was easily two stories and took my breath away. The white walls gleamed in the bright sunlight, the twinkling lights that lined the banisters only adding to the glory that made up the entryway. The beauty that was this home belonged on the cover of some rich people magazine, not in real life. I ran my hand along the little mirrored table beside me and paused another moment to take it all in.

Then…things started to shift. The strange feeling that came with something eventful returned, making my stomach queasy. I gripped the small table beside me as the all-too familiar dizziness that came with a flashback started. I felt my eyes go fuzzy as the brief flash of memory assaulted my senses.

I was standing in the entry way of the newly renovated mansion. Gale and I used to ride our bikes past this neighborhood when we were kids. To think that he was actually living in the old, newly restored house was something out of our wildest dreams. It was like Gale and his family had won the lottery…every year for the rest of their lives. They suddenly had more money than they knew what to do with.

Gale walked through the door off to the side and grinned at me. "It's something, isn't it?" He held his hands out from his sides and spun around once in a happy circle. His smile was so big it threatened to stretch his face.

I nodded, my mouth still hanging slightly open as I took in the staggering height of the elaborate entry way of the new Hawthorne home. It was unlike anything my feeble imagination could have conjured up for the inside of the house I'd seen the outside of a thousand times.

"It's amazing," I agreed, running my hand over the smooth glass table at my side. Everything in the house was either reflective, white, or shiny like crystal. It made me feel a burning sense of inadequacy as I stood on the marble floor. My worn, pink Old Navy flip flops were a stark contrast to the floor so clean I could see my reflection. It was more wonderful than I could have ever hoped for, but I knew I didn't belong there. Neither did Gale really, but he was too happy and caught up in all of it to notice.

"This is the future Catnip. We'll have our own home like this someday. Maybe even bigger," he sighed. He grinned again and walked over to me, sweeping me into his arms. It wasn't like him to be so touchy feeley – I wasn't sure how I felt about it. A strange feeling settled over me as I hugged him back and relaxed into his side. The elaborate entryway was still packed with draped furniture and moving boxes, but I could tell that Hazelle would take over and turn this blank slate into something magnificent. But I couldn't help but wonder: was it a little too much too soon? Everything was suddenly moving a million miles an hour. After my father's funeral, Hawthorne Industries had nearly quadrupled its scope and value. Stock prices were through the roof and climbing – Gale's work salary had so many zeros at the end of it now that it made my head spin.

"Does this help?" he asked softly.

"Help?"

He nodded. "I know you miss your dad. Does this help make up for it?"

I frowned at his odd selection of words. "Make up for what?"

Gale's perfect smile faltered for a split second before he regained his composure. "Well…I-I know you miss him is all. I wanted something to make you happy. I want you to move in with me. Here."

"Here?"

"Here."

Instead of answering, I simply hugged him back and tried to hide the strange feeling that had settled over me. Something wasn't right.

The newly regained memory began to fade as my hand stilled on the same smooth little table in the entry way of the Hawthorne mansion. I was standing in the same place as I was in the memory, touching the same table and staring forward. I blinked and looked around, the boxes and draped furniture gone from the scene but still fresh in my mind. It seemed as though I had gained back an important memory – but of what?


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 37: Changing Odds

After the memory stopped, I slowly made my way towards the back of the house like I was supposed to have been doing all along. That had been a weird flashback – too weird. My brain was obviously struggling to tell me something. Judging by the increasing intensity of these instances, I could only estimate that things would start to fully come back to me sooner rather than later.

People in white button down shirts bustled past me with rented tables and chairs, a pair of them even carrying what looked like a baroque archway. I took a deep breath and quickly pushed past a few of the crew members that were already busy setting up for Prim's wedding at the mansion. This wedding was overwhelming for me to get prepared for; I couldn't even imagine how Prim felt as the actual bride. She'd always wanted a big, pretty wedding but I couldn't help but feel like Hazelle had probably taken it to the extreme.

The entire house was being transformed today. More lights and greenery were added to the large foyer, which was now currently having the marble floors buffed. The long, ornate dining room that faced the lenai was being transformed into a white, shimmering cove of icicle lights and silvery lanterns for the cocktail hour after the ceremony. I burst through the doors leading into the large, heated white tent that had been erected on the back of the house for first the ceremony and then the dinner and dancing. It hadn't been heated completely yet, so that blast of cold air gave me a little jolt as I made my way to the tables.

I plopped down and scanned my fuzzy memory again and again, conjuring up the new pictures that my mind had released to me. A few people in the tent that were setting up gave me weird glances, but I didn't care about that. I was too wrapped up in what my brain might be trying to tell me. What did it all mean?

I flipped through the place cards in my hand absently, my eyes going unfocused as I stared out at the sea of plain white table cloths. Prim's wedding was in two days, but it was honestly the furthest thing from my mind. The more I did remember, the more I realized whatever my mind was intentionally hiding from me wasn't something I was going to enjoy.

"Thank you for your help," Prim sighed, grasping me tightly. It was several hours later and I was still as distracted as could be as we worked on her seating arrangements and room layout, so a frazzled Hazelle had finally released me from my wedding assistance. I think she was tired of me wandering around like I was lost and figured it was better to just send me home saying I looked 'tired'.

"No problem," I sighed, squeezing her back. I buttoned up my coat and pulled on my hat, preparing to go out and warm up Peeta's truck.

Prim inhaled softly and crossed her arms as she quietly observed my distracted behavior. For a self-absorbed girl she could sometimes be surprisingly observant.

"You're acting weird…is everything okay?" she asked, her blue eyes observing me closely. I knew it was pointless to try to lie to my litter sister; even though we'd spent years not really being that close, apparently she could still read me like a book.

"What? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. Just….weirdness. Head stuff."

"Is it Peeta?" she asked.

"What?" I frowned. "No. It's not Peeta. Definitely not Peeta," I snorted.

"You seem kinda…..out of it. Like you're not really here."

I had to laugh again. "Well, that's the way I feel pretty much like I woke up in the hospital. It's weird waking up and not knowing….anything. You should try it sometime."

Prim huffed and gave me an exasperated look. "I'm sorry I asked, Katniss. I'm trying to show concern and all you do is…."

I rolled my eyes and shouldn't have been surprised that Prim was playing the martyr. "Just…getting some memories back. It's just weird."

"Oh," she sighed. "Well I hope you get it all figured out before my wedding, no offense. I can't have a distracted bridesmaid. I'll need help with my dress that day, you know?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded "Yes Prim, I know."

"Good," she quipped, giving me a terse smile. "Now will you please go home and get some beauty rest? You have bags under your eyes."

"Thanks for noticing," I replied flatly, reaching for the door handle. I stepped out onto the front porch of the house just as she turned and flounced away. The double doors clicked quietly shut and I was alone on the front porch – or so I thought.

I was immediately hit with the familiar scent of Marlboro Lights. I turned my head and saw a guilty looking Gale leaning against a pillar downwind, flicking his cigarette into the snow on the porch. Knowing he'd been caught, he gave me a lopsided smile.

"I thought you quit," I stated, pulling on my gloves.

"Guess not," he sighed. "What are you doing here?"

I gave him a weird face. "Um, helping my sister? Her wedding is two days away, what do you mean?"

"Nothing," he mused quietly. He gave me another anxious look that hardly ever graced his cocky features. "Just thought you pretty much hated it here. Christmas was…interesting."

I sighed. "I guess, yeah. Your family has changed a lot and it's still a little…weird to me to see all of…this," I said, motioning to the house.

He shrugged. "Might be weird to you but it's all I've ever wanted. Ever since I was a kid, I wanted to live in a place like this, drive the car I drive, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah Gale…I know. Well, you got it. How does it feel?"

My only answer was a scathing look as he shivered in his button down shirt and took another long drag from the cigarette clasped between his two fingers.

"What's eating you? And why are you hiding out there?"

He shrugged. "Mom doesn't like it when I smoke inside the house…or when I smoke period, so I thought I'd come out here and burn one. Give her one less thing to bitch about."

I nodded, blowing out a last breath of warm air as the icy December settled into my lungs. "I see."

"Care for one?" He asked, holding out the white carton. I watched him hold the white cigarette in his long, slender fingers, the smoke still swirling around him in the frigid black air. He leaned against the pillar of the porch, partially out of the warm glow of the house lights. I could somewhat remember smoking before, but the act held no appeal to me now.

"No thanks. Did I used to smoke?"

He smirked. "I recall sharing a cigarette or two."

"Seriously?"

Another smirk. "Once or twice I see to recall you needing one after….well," he trailed off, a mischievous smile decorating the smooth planes of his face. I realized what he was insinuating and felt my stomach turn over slightly. The thought of sharing such an intimate act with anyone but Peeta made my stomach turn. Even though I couldn't remember many details about my relationship with Gale, I knew enough to feel sick about it.

"That was a long time ago," I snapped. "Will you just get over it already? Our siblings are getting married in two days and we'll be family."

He snorted and took another long drag. "We already are practically family Catnip. Or have you forgotten that?"

"Whatever," I said, giving him a look of disdain. "Please let the past go Gale."

"I will if you will."

"What is that even supposed to mean? Jesus Christ, I'm a happily married woman. Any smart retorts you happen to make about our former, long dead relationship are moot and just plain irritating," I snapped. I shook my head at him and gave him a pity-laced looked. "It's too cold to stand out here and rehash this bullshit anyway. Goodnight."

With that, I flounced away from the porch and towards Peeta's truck. I heard Gale's bitter little laugh as he watched me go, slamming the door behind me. I let the engine roar to life and peeled out of the driveway without bothering to warm it up first.

I hated, hated that he could still do that to me. Irritate the living fuck out of me until I wanted to grit my teeth down to the gums. My gloved hands gripped the steering wheel as I rolled cautiously down the hilly neighborhood and back to the familiar city limits. The faint smell of Gale's cigarette smoke clung to my jacket and made me feel nauseous. I tried to push it from my mind as I drove back towards the apartment – Peeta was waiting for me, or was at least in the process of closing up the shop for the night. However, a nagging feeling in the back of my skull seemed to keep pulling at my hands. I wasn't ready to go back just yet. Before I realized it, I turned off the main road and down the now paved road towards the mines.

I wanted to test myself.

Peeta's truck rolled down the access road for a few miles before I turned off and headed up one of the steep side roads. The lane twisted and climbed its way up the side of the mountain, eventually leading me to a small parking lot. There was a mine entrance there but it was one that was long forgotten. Once they'd mined a location to the finish or as deep as they could go it was usually kept open as an emergency out but rarely used after that. I put the truck into park and turned off the lights, letting the engine idle quietly. My eyes stared out at the rolling hills and mountainsides that made up some of the biggest mines in the state. Several hills over was the largest mountain where Gale and his family had hit it big while mining it.

Just looking at it made my eyes tear up.

My father hadn't made it out of that mine.

I swallowed and gripped the cold steering wheel, sniffing miserably and wiping my eyes as if someone could hear me. I couldn't fathom how it could still hurt this fucking much to see the sight of a stupid mountain. While it represented a miraculous change of lifestyle for Gale's family, to me it represented death and darkness.

My nightmares had never ceased to horrify me as my mind tended to bring back the things that I dared not try to picture in the brightness of day. No, it would wait until darkness had come to hold me under in my sleep and terrify my mind with horrible thoughts and pictures of what it was like to die the way my father had. After screaming myself awake I could remember lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling and picturing things I'd never dared speak of out loud. One might think it was a sick thing to try to imagine how he died and how horrible and gruesome it was but it was one of those things I couldn't stop my mind from picturing. I guess it was a sick aspect of being human; trying to keep your mind from going places it shouldn't. But how do you stop that? I wasn't sure. But my father was gone and all that was left were pictures and memories and horrible thoughts that seemed welded to the inside of my skull. I couldn't remember much from that time of my life after he passed away, but I could remember waking in a cold sweat with the images just barely fading from my sight. Sometimes it took almost twenty minutes for the horrifying pictures to completely fade away, the claws of my nightmares trying to pull me back in.

I gulped and sniffled again, hiccupping as I tried to make sense of it all. I stared at the chain of mountains from the truck, the lone entrance lights to the six mines I could see shining in the cold night air. Feeling utterly hopeless, I wasn't ready for the dizziness that slowly crept over my limbs and ensnared my mind. I clutched the steering wheel as the memory seeped back into my brain.

I walked through the trailer door, grinning as it slammed behind me. Gale looked up at me with a wide smile, his face still smeared with coal dust. He'd just made supervisor at his father's mining business and I was so proud of him. He was taking this job so seriously it made me happy; Gale and his father had a rough relationship, so this promotion meant a lot.

"Nice trailer," I laughed. Gale shook his head and gave me a chagrined look.

"Hey now, I have to be able to work while I'm onsite. This is the life of a supervisor, babe. Get used to it."

I looked around the work trailer that was stationed outside the mine entrance, pretending to assess it while Gale leaned back in the squeaky desk chair he was seated in. The trailer was parked near the opening of one of the newer mines that Gale had been assigned to and was set up as a makeshift office. Coal dust coated nearly everything in it including my boyfriend as he sat at his outdated computer and clicked away at the keyboard. Stacks of papers and maps of mines sat in piles on every surface, nearly blocking the windows with their impressive height. I knew it wasn't much, but the small promotion in his father's company was enough to make my normally stern boyfriend smile. Gale had to work to earn an inch of his father's approval and I knew this wasn't something he took lightly.

I had just delivered lunch to my father a few mines over and thought I'd stop by to say hello and congratulate him again. "So this is where you'll spend most of your days, huh?"

"Yeah, well…it's something," he mused, shaking his head. "Did you happen to bring me lunch too?"

I grinned and pulled an extra sandwich from my satchel, tossing it to him with a flourish. He grinned and accepted it happily, his steely eyes reading the label.

"Mellark Bakery?"

"Yeah, passed it on the way here. They make the best sourdough."

"I know. This rocks, thanks Catnip."

I rolled my eyes at his nickname and shook my head as I continued to look around the trailer. He pried it open and gleefully added too much mustard before closing it and holding it up to take a bite. A few shouts outside made Gale's head turn and his jaw freeze as he leaned to peek out the blinds.

"Shit," he muttered, stuffing the sandwich in the nearest drawer.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Dad's coming. Fuck, um….hey, can you duck in that closet? He'll kill me if he knows you're here," he asked with a pleading gaze.

I gave him a skeptical look. "The closet? Really Gale?"

"Shhh!" he whispered, gently ushering me closer to the door. I hissed in distaste as he opened the door and pushed me softly inside. "Just hide out here til he's gone, alright? I Just got this job; I can't fuck it up!" he laughed.

I gave him a coy smile and pulled the rickety door shut just as his father stepped inside.

"Dad," Gale greeted sternly, all traces of play gone from his voice.

I heard his father 'tsk' at him before Gale cleared his throat. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm relocating you," his father said shortly, his smooth, deep voice curt.

"What? I just got this job!"

"Relax," his father snapped in a low voice. "You're moving over to Peak Thirteen. I need more men there to help Everdeen."

My ears perked up at the mention of my father's last name. He'd been friends with Mr. Hawthorne most of his life, however I knew from talks at home that tensions between the two men were rising as Gale's father gained more power in the company.

"Okay. That's….great. When will I go?"

"Tomorrow. I need you to help him dig deeper…" Gale's father's voice trailed off as he listed off mining measurements of depth and drilling that I didn't quite understand. The only thing I could actually comprehend was the fact that they needed to just dig deeper. Not as many miners has as much experience as my father did when it came to this sort of thing and I was proud to know that my father was so talented with his work. He took pride in the fact that he'd been a coalminer his entire career. Mining was a profitable yet dangerous profession; it took years of skill to know what paths to dig without endangering the entire crew.

Gale's father eventually left and Gale finally came over to let me out of the closet. I fanned my neck and pretended to be dizzy as I stepped outside into the bright light.

"Better work hard from now on Hawthorne; better impress my old man," I teased.

He grinned. "I plan to."

The memory left me as quickly as it had appeared. I inhaled the cold air as the truck idled on the side of the mountain, the heater sputtering to work properly. I stared forward at the mountains as I watched and re-watched the scene from my memory. It was new and I guess important – Gale had been thrilled to get to work alongside my father. His knowledge of the mines surpassed even Gale's dad. While Mr. Hawthorne had been aggressive enough to move up in the company, my father had been content to simply stay where he was at. He enjoyed his crew and his daily assignment and had no desire to climb the ladder as his friend did. Gale had been really excited to start working with my father even though they were old friends. I guess he realized how much experience it would give him. At the time I could remember how Gale would tease me about impressing the man that might someday become his father in law.

I thought about my father less and less these days, and it made my heart ache in my chest to realize that. His face was getting harder and harder to remember and sometimes I almost forgot the color of his silvery gray eyes. They were prettier than my own, although similar. I realized with another pang in my chest that my father would never meet Peeta.

I sighed and rested my head against the steering wheel as I took a few more deep breaths. I needed to get away from here – some memories were too painful to remember and frankly, I wasn't sure I wanted them.

I went home that night and found Peeta waiting for me. He had passed the time making cheese buns and didn't waste any time handing me one as I slipped out of my coat. I took a huge bite and chewed, barely stifling my moan of approval as he grinned with pride. I kissed him firmly in welcome and laughed as he wiped a big smear of cheesy grease I'd left on his mouth.

"Hungry?"

"Yes. And I had a bad day. Yet you had cheese buns waiting…how did you know I'd need cheese buns today?" I laughed, sitting down at the table. He grabbed the tray and a small bowl of marinara sauce before joining me.

"Boyfriends just know I guess," he mused. His blue eyes carefully evaluated me as he reached over to brush some hair out of my eyes as I chewed. "What made it a bad day?"

"Ulgh, this wedding. Prim had me running around the house all afternoon getting shit ready, and then Gale was there of course…being weird."

Peeta's eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. "Should I be worried?"

"No," I snorted, "Not at all."

His shoulders relaxed slightly as the tension drained from them. "So what happened?"

"Just…remembering stuff I guess I didn't want to. About him, his family, when they bought that house…."

Peeta leaned back in his chair and sighed. "Well, that doesn't surprise me. That was a really big time for them, for you, for the whole family. Not every day someone becomes a multimillionaire. Hell, probably billionaire by now," he said gruffly. I watched him crack his worn knuckles and brush a bit of bread dough away from the creases in his palms. "But whatever."

"Right, well….I just keep having weird flashes whenever I see Gale. Or that house or….the mines."

"Take a drive, did we?" he asked with an amused tone.

"I did. Went and parked up at one of the peaks by the mine entrance. Just sat there and thought awhile."

"And?" he asked expectantly.

I shook my head and took another bite of the comforting food laid out before me. "Just remembered the time when Gale's father told him he'd be working with my dad."

Peeta shifted in his chair and looked at the table. "And?"

I gave him a crooked smile. "Nothing really. He was excited to work for his girlfriend's father. Or with him, rather. He had a lot of respect for my dad, but then again a lot of the guys did."

Peeta nodded. "I remember you telling me that your father had a lot of knowledge about the mines."

"Tons. He told me once that he forged his work permit to say he was sixteen when he was barely fifteen. He just wanted to work so badly," I laughed. "He knew so much and he loved his work. It didn't pay anything but I guess he just felt like he was really doing a good day's work, ya know?"

Peeta nodded good naturedly. "I think that's why I like making bread so much. I like knowing I help people keep their families fed."

"You're sweet," I chuckled, taking another bite. "You are awesome at it by the way."

"I know," he laughed back, taking a large bit of cheese bun. I watched him chew thoughtfully for a few moments, his hand snaking its way across the table to grasp mine. "I'm happy you're remembering, but you know I'm fine if you never do, right?"

I nodded. "I know."

We finished out dinner soon after, Peeta chuckling as I cleaned the last of the marinara sauce from the bowl with the last bit of bread. He seemed to sense that I would need some comfort. I collapsed on the couch and admired our Christmas tree as Peeta rummaged through a few boxes under the television set.

"Do you think we should take the tree down?" I asked, jumping slightly as Buttercup hopped up on the arm of the sofa. He sat down, tucking his fluffy and slightly matted tail around his feet to gaze in the direction of the tree as if I'd ask him for his opinion too.

Peeta snorted form his place on the floor as he pulled a photo box out of a messy heap of papers. "I dragged that tree to the truck, pinned it to the top of the truck, dragged it up the steps and spent four hours untangling the effing lights for it. Then I vacuumed up all the needles I knocked off of it on the way. That tree is saying up until April, damn it," he deadpanned. I stared at him in surprise for a moment before we both burst out laughing.

"Fine, fine. I'll take it down next week. But it's not even New Years," he whined, settling in on the couch with me.

"Makes no difference to me. What's all this?"

"Pictures," he sighed, opening the box. He pulled out an array of photographs ranging from black and white and curling on the edges to ones that had been printed from digital copies. I gazed down at the photographs; some looked familiar and others held no memories for me. They were mostly old family photos from my time before Peeta – me and Prim as kids, my mother, and a few family vacation photos. I felt myself smile as the older memories from my childhood came back to me. I wish they would all come back to me.

"I thought you maybe needed this tonight," he said softly, leaning back on the couch. He draped an arm around my shoulders as I flipped through the pictures, stopping on one of my dad.

"I did meet him once," Peeta admitted. I looked up and whipped my head towards his face.

"You did?"

Peeta nodded. "Yeah. He came in once and ordered a sandwich. This was a long time ago, but….it's weird I never forgot him. Years later when you showed me a picture I knew I'd seen him somewhere. Took me a few weeks to place it, but I finally realized he'd come into the shop once."

I leaned back against Peeta's arm and felt a strange feeling of peace settle over me.

"We didn't say much but he complimented my marble rye," he chuckled. "Told me we ran a nice shop. He smiled at me, I remember."

It felt nice to know that even though my father and Peeta hadn't officially met, they had at least been in the same room together and maybe shared a smile. No, I knew that if my dad had paid Peeta a compliment that Peeta had surely smiled back. And Peeta's smiles were contagious. I leaned further into his side as we flipped through more pictures, a contented feeling settling over my frazzled nerves.

Maybe…just maybe….things will be okay.


	37. Chapter 37: To Have and To Hold

Chapter 37: To Have and to Hold

If Prim wanted a flashy wedding, well…she'd gotten a flashy wedding.

I peered over the balcony of the top floor, gazing down at the guests mingling in the foyer of the impressive Hawthorne home. The scene below was the epitome of upper class and everything any girl could have dreamt of wanting for her wedding day. It was a bit much (okay a lot too much) for me, but Prim had always pictured of something like this. Guests were still ooing and aahing over the elaborately decorated main foyer that was dripping in white Christmas trees and garlands, every inch covered in either twinkling lights or something crystal and shiny. The white marbled floor shone like a diamond below, reflecting the elegantly dressed guests. They'd come ready for the wedding of the season followed by a New Year's Eve party that would put all others to shame.

Hazelle didn't plan to disappoint.

I spied Peeta below, talking politely with a few guests as he patiently waited for the wedding to start. He was in his black tuxedo, his sleek black tie and neatly combed back hair making him look more dapper than usual. I smiled to myself as he listened patiently as an older woman in a fur coat rattled on and on about something. He was sweet to agree to come here with me despite how uncomfortable I knew this whole ordeal made him. I turned away from the balcony and headed back to where Prim was still getting ready.

My sister sat down the hall in the large guest suite, surrounded by a hair and makeup team I'm sure most celebrities would be jealous of. No expense had been spared for this occasion and I was honestly a little overwhelmed by all of it. My necklace and bracelet I'd been directed to wear were a stunning rhinestone set, or at least I thought. Hazelle had haughtily informed me that they were on loan from the jeweler in town but that I could 'purchase them afterwards if I was so inclined.'

She was lucky I'd already had a glass of champagne that day and wasn't inclined to slap her.

Prim gave me a nervous little smile as I walked back into the room and dutifully clicked a few pictures with my camera. Even without her dress on yet, she was likely to an angel as she sat in front of the window in her bathrobe. The setting sun was shining through the drapes making her golden blonde hair shimmer and her blue eyes bright. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I needed to be happy for her today. If this was what she wanted I needed to do my best to support it and celebrate beside her like nothing was wrong.

People flitted around her, fluffing her loose golden curls and touching up her face powder. She gave me another smile that didn't quite reach her eyes and I frowned.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Do you need something?"

"Maybe some water," she replied nervously. But her anxiousness didn't mean she was any less bossy today. "Shouldn't you be in your dress?"

"Oh," I muttered, nodding as one of her hair people handed me the hanger. I handed her a bottle of water with a straw and made my way to the bathroom to change into my black bridesmaids dress. I still loved the overpriced gown, even if it was the most outlandish thing I'd ever had grace my body. I slipped it on and groaned to myself as I stepped into the heels Prim had made me promise to wear at least until the cake was cut. I carefully teetered out of the bathroom and watched as the beauty team she had assembled helped her into her elaborate wedding dress. The finishing touches were added and we were soon off. I paused at the top of the stairs as the guests were ushered into the large tent on the back of the house; they were going to be married in the tent, then everyone was going to the dining room for a cocktail hour while the tent was set up for the reception. After the last guest was carefully ushered out, we made our way down the ornate staircase towards the tent.

The music started playing and I heard Prim squeak nervously behind me. "I'm about to walk," I warned her. "You're sure?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes at me. "Yes Katniss, I'm sure."

"I had to ask," I muttered under my breath. I could hear the live string quartet start the music I was to talk to, the loud twittering crowd inside the tent falling silent.

I nodded and reached over to squeeze her hand. She gave me a smile and bobbed her head once to let me know she was ready to do this. When the doors to the tent swung open and I saw that waiting crowd, my stomach did a tiny flip. At least a hundred and fifty people were seated in the pretty white chairs, their faces turned towards me as I gripped my bouquet of white roses someone had handed me at the last minute. The smell wafting up from them as I stood under the heat lamps of the tent made me a little sick as I waited for me cue.

Time froze as I stood in the doorway, staring down the white isle runner all the way to the stunning, rose covered arch at the end. Rory stood waiting with the pastor, Gale standing at his side. I swallowed a little lump in my throat and shifted my eyes to the other side of the aisle. Peeta was standing on Prim's side in the front row of seating, his arm out as my mother leaned on it. Her blank eyes held a miniscule shred of interest as I slowly put one foot in front of the other. The strings played as I walked, my shoes making barely a sound as I marched carefully down the aisle. Gale stared at me from one side, Peeta from the other.

I felt a little sick.

Closer and closer I got, each footstep inching to the altar. Gale gave me a smug look of approval, his grey eyes flashing as he eyed me in my black dress. I tried not to frown too much as I took my place and waited for the doors to open again. I exchanged a look with Peeta and noticed that his jaw was clenched tight and his blue eyes were blazing. I gave him a questioning look which he shook off and looked away. I glanced at Gale and realized the two of them were eying each other like it was taking every ounce of self-respect they had not to lunge at one another. Gale ignored my look of warning and didn't even flinch as the doors opened and the wedding march began.

Prim floated down the aisle in her white gown, the layers of tulle catching lightly on her feet as she walked. I watched as Mr. Hawthorne walk her down the aisle with a bored look on his face and said a silent little prayer that my father wasn't rolling in his grave. He had always claimed weddings were a happy time to laugh and have fun. I think if he could see the look on Mr. Hawthorne's face he would probably make faces behind the pastor until he laughed right along with him.

He's not here though, my mind chided. He's gone.

I gripped the bouquet in my hands as Prim reached the end of the aisle, the smell of all the roses almost overwhelming. I normally enjoyed their unique, fragrant scent but today it was making my stomach turn. She joined Rory beneath the flowery trellis and handed me her bouquet of red roses. Everything in the room was white, down to the chairs, then isle, the flowers – all except for the trellis and Prim's bouquet, which were red. The stark colors in the room made it look like a scene from a movie as everyone sat and smiled politely while they exchanged their vows.

"I do," I heard Prim's shaky voice echo.

I could feel Gale's eyes on me as the ceremony progressed, his gaze focused on me through the vows. I refused to look at him, even going so far as to look over at Peeta and smile.

Forget Gale, I wanted to remember my wedding to Peeta. Not now, my brain chided me. I didn't want to have some big, emotional flashback in the midst of Prim's wedding that would make me space out and look ridiculous. I sighed and tried to push the thought from my mind as Prim and Rory kissed and the tent was full of people clapping and whistling. Prim turned and waved, accepting her bouquet back to walk back down the aisle. When it was my turn to walk with Gale, I gingerly reached to take his arm but stopped.

"We can just walk together. No need for that," I said brusquely. I saw Gale's jaw clench as he shrugged off my remark and stormed down the white runner towards the dining room. A few people turned to gawk as we walked past, but I simply smiled and trailed behind him by a few feet. I stalled in the dining room afterwards, waiting as the people filed out. I grabbed Peeta's arm and pulled him to the side the first chance I got.

"You look…amazing," he breathed, leaning in and kissing my cheek. I gave him a halfhearted smile and shook my head.

"What are you and Gale fighting about now?" I asked. "He wouldn't stop staring me down during the ceremony."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "He was pissing me off, asking a bunch of question about what you remember, shit like that. He's just nervous."

"Why?" I begged, searching Peeta's eyes. He clenched his jaw and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know Katniss, because maybe he still harbors some sick fantasy about getting you back? Who knows," Peeta said, giving me an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his gelled hair, mussing it slightly as a waiter handed us some champagne for the toast. I frowned and shoved my bouquet into his arms as I reached up and trucked an unruly cowlick back behind his ear. He held up his glass of champagne and downed the entire glass in one sip. He placed it on a waiting tray by the wall with a clatter, making a few people standing near us in the dining room turn to look. By now people were filtering through the dining room and back into the foyer, where Prim and Rory were getting some pictures taken. I clutched my glass and watched as he stood there, miserably silent. I could tell he didn't want to ruffle any feathers but had truly had it with Gale's behavior. Peeta's eyes were blazing as he visibly fought to maintain his self-control.

"I know he's an ass," I sighed in defeat, taking my bouquet back. I reached up with my free hand and touched his face in an effort to calm him.

"Make that pompous ass."

"I didn't mean to upset you," I told him gently. "I just wanted to know what to prepare myself for, that's all."

Peeta clenched his jaw and gave me a pouty look that a little kid would give. "It was stupid. That guy just says all the wrong things and I get so…weirdly frustrated. It's a pissing contest with him every time and every time I feel like I lose."

I gazed at him and offered him a tiny smile as I placed my arms around his neck. "It's not a pissing contest if you get to take the girl home every time," I gently reminded him. I leaned in, my tall heels making me as tall as him and offering me prime reach of his mouth. He kissed me sweetly, letting his mouth linger on mine for a few seconds. I playfully swiped his bottom lip with my tongue, the taste of champagne lingering on his plump lip. I pulled away slowly, my eyes meeting his. I saw the deep blue of his irises as they smoldered momentarily, the brutal need for acceptance shining in behind his desire. Mind made up, I grabbed his hand.

"Come with me. Hurry," I whispered, pulling him down the hallway. Away from the foyer we went, down the hall and around the corner.

"Katniss….Katniss where are we going?" he asked frantically, digging his heels into the marble floor. He slid a little on his uneasy legs as I gave him a tug towards the bathroom.

"Just…follow me. Trust me," I begged. He allowed me to pull him into the bathroom with me, slamming the door behind us. It was an elegant powder room, just a simple toilet and sink. The crème painted walls soothed my frazzled nerves as we were suddenly alone. I backed him up against the sink and pinned his hands to his sides.

"I love you," I whispered urgently. Satisfied he wasn't going to go anywhere, I took his face in my hands and stared into his bright blue eyes. "I love you. No one else Peeta. You."

He nodded in understanding, his face losing a bit of its angry red tint. I could tell his heart was slowing down by the rate his breathing changed; his shoulders no longer looked hunched and jagged with tension and his eyes softened.

"I know."

"Do you?" I challenged. He nodded, clenching his jaw in a way that told me he only half knew.

"Prove it," I whispered, leaning forward to let my lips brush his ear. Leaning back, I met his eyes and watched as all traces of innocence fell out of his boyish baby blues, replaced with a feral need for me to claim his body as my own. I felt a shudder roll down my spine as the look in his eyes clearly told me I had caught him off guard but that he was undoubtedly intrigued by my sudden change of mood.

Peeta swallowed roughly, shaking his head at me in amusement. I felt his hands rise up and lightly grip my waist, his fingers digging into the satiny material. "This dress is….divine on you, you know," he said roughly. Sometimes his vocabulary did things to me between my legs.

I reached up and traced my hand across his jaw, Peeta turning his head at the last minute to brush his lips across my fingers. They were hot. Needy and hot.

I watched his jaw clench again and I knew I needed him. My body reacted to his touch, a surge of wetness effectively dampening my underwear. I bit back a grin and eyed him.

"You like this dress then?"

"Very much," he choked out, trailing his hands up my sides.

"Would you like to see it on the floor?" I whispered, my voice cracking with nerves. I couldn't believe I was going to do this, but I didn't care anymore.

Peeta quirked an eyebrow at me before shaking his head. "No…I…I think it's just fine right where it is."

I barely had a chance to be disappointed in his answer.

I yelped in surprise as he quickly grabbed my hips again and flipped me so that I was up against the sink. Before I could yelp again he had lifted my hips and sat me easily on the porcelain surface, his hands fumbling to get my dress up around my hips. I let out a throaty laugh as he shoved the long, black dress out of the way with a little effort. I stopped laughing as his fingers deftly hooked around the crotch of my underwear and pulled it hastily aside. He wasted no time shoving two fingers directly into my awaiting heat, his digits immediately caressing me the way he knew I liked. I leaned back on the counter and sighed in relief as Peeta's fingers instantly made me even wetter. He continued with one hand while his other fumbled with the top button on his tuxedo pants. I bit my lip in needy anticipation as he hastily shoved the pants to the floor along with his boxers. His erection sprung forward with a needy bob, already pointing in the direction of where it wanted to be. A wicked smile formed on my lips as he moved closer, removing his hand from my walls to grip my thighs. He jerked me closer, my skin squeaking against the porcelain counter top. I barely had time to inhale with anticipation before he lined himself up with my entrance and thrust into me with one quick motion.

We both gasped out in shock and relief as our bodies quickly acclimated to one another. I felt Peeta's manhood throb inside of me, apparently as eager to be there as I was to have it.

"I need you," I whispered urgently, meeting his eyes. Peeta's eyes flicked up to mine, the dark blue pools of emotion making my knees quake. He nodded, pulling all the way out only to slam back into me milliseconds later. I yelped in surprise and pleasure as he filled me to the brim with no apologies. My core tightened immediately as he ground his hips against mine before pulling out and thrusting back in.

"Oh god…" he groaned, looking down. His eyes were trained on the one place we were joined. The sight seemed to fuel his fire as he wove a hand behind my neck and pulled me roughly against his chest. He groaned into my mouth as he kissed me hard and passionately, his tongue probing through my lips and over my teeth. I kissed him back with equal fervor knowing that he needed this – he needed to know how much I desperately wanted him and needed him.

No other would ever compare to Peeta – I needed to tell him this. I'd already tried to reassure him with words, but I knew now was the time to try a different approach. I used my body to communicate what my mouth obviously could not.

We broke apart breathless, our chests both heaving as he slammed his hips against mine again and again. I felt myself clench around his manhood as the telltale tightening began in my abdomen. Peeta could feel this for he groaned in appreciation. The growling sound emanated from deep in his chest as I tried to fulfill this primal need he seemed to have. That was fine – if he needed to claim me to feel better, than I would happily submit to him.

I leaned back against the mirror, my sweaty palm cupping his strong jaw. "Peeta," I keened, arching my back. "Harder."

He grunted in approval, his dark blue gaze settling back to the place where we were joined. I felt myself grow even wetter as his pace and tenacity increased. The only sounds in the tiny bathroom were our groans and colliding bodies.

"Fuck Peeta…I…I'm coming," I managed to groan, my voice raspy and hoarse. I felt my insides clench around him as he thrust, the familiar feeling of release washing over my taught limbs and aching center. I wanted to say something else to him that would be hot and raunchy and make him understand but…no words could even leave my mouth as my orgasm crashed over me.

Peeta's eyes met mine as I came down from the high. He tossed his head to shake the sweaty tendrils of blonde hair away from his eyes and inhaled deeply. I knew what he smelled – the raw, heady scent of our sex that now positively permeated the small space we were in. My mouth fell slowly open as I leaned forward and gripped his shoulders, hooking my leg around his waist. Peeta bit his lip and gasped for breath, his hips crashing against mine again and again.

"Fuck me," I finally breathed, nodding. "Fuck me Peeta, please."

I heard him growl again in approval as he continued, his thrusts growing erratic and labored. My sensitive walls could feel him throbbing against me as his own release teetered just out of his reach.

Leaning back on one hand, I reached the other around to the back of his neck and grabbed the fine hairs there. Weaving my fingers into the damp locks, I lightly pulled and watched as his eyes flashed to mine.

"I'm yours Peeta, only yours. Fuck me," I panted.

His hips slammed into mine a final time as his cock pulsed with his release. Peeta's head lolled backwards towards the ceiling as he inhaled another deep breath.

"Oh fuck," he growled, shaking his head. He lowered his jaw to eye me with his darkened gaze. "Fuck Katniss. Fuck…that was…."

I smiled at him as his head fell forward to rest on my bare shoulder. The beads of sweat from his brow dampened my skin as he slowly came down from the high that only a hell of an orgasm could give a person. He panted against my skin before lifting his head up and placing a sloppy kiss on my lips.

"I love you."

"I love you," I answered back. "Not him."

Peeta nodded in understanding. We sat there joined for a moment, his eyes locked with mine as his caveman side of his mind finally seemed to wrap around the idea that I was his – not Gale's. I was a fierce and confident woman, that much I knew – I had no qualms about offering myself up for Peeta to claim this once. He'd done so much for me that it was all I could do to offer him this little tryst.

He slowly pulled out, rubbing his hands up and down my thighs. I heard him sigh as he reached over and grabbed a towel off the rack beside us, leaning slightly forward to wet it in the sink behind me. I watched as he gently wiped the traces of our act from between my legs before folding it over and wiping himself off.

He offered me a slightly sheepish smile before bending down to pull his pants up from around his ankles. Once his pants were secured, he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me off the sink. The black dress fell back into place, all t races of what we'd just escaped to do effectively disappearing.

I smiled at him. "Are you okay?"

He sighed, nodding once. "Are we okay?"

"Of course we are," I answered. "Peeta we're one of the few things in this equation that's still okay, ya know?"

I watched a trace of a smile form on his lips as he rubbed them together and placed a hand on my hip. "I didn't mean to…I know I'm not usually so rough-"

My finger flew to his lips to silence him. "No. I needed that. We needed that. It's fine, you didn't hurt me. I'm tough and sometimes…sometimes you need to do that."

He chuckled and shook his head. I reached up, wiping some sweat off his brow and pushing his hair back into place. He'd combed it back so neatly for the ceremony, but our bathroom romp had made it go back to normal. That was okay though – after all we'd been through, we deserved it.

"Ready to go back there and face them?" he sighed.

"It's only for a few more hours," I pointed out. "The wedding is done, now all I have to do is make it through the reception. Just make it through tonight and we'll…back away for a while and let the dust settle I think."

"Grand idea. So…do I look okay to go back out there? I don't look like I just got defiled?"

I shrugged. "Personally, I'm fine with everyone knowing what we were doing in here," I answered honestly.

Peeta smirked and gave me a boyish grin. "Fine by me then. Let's go."

After checking my hair and makeup one last time, we arranged our clothes to look halfway normal and exited the bathroom. I had pulled him to a rarely used part of the house outside of Gale's study and the library, so I wasn't too worried that anyone had heard us. We looked around and shared a private little laugh as we ducked out of the room and back into the hall. We could hear the cocktail hour proceeding in the foyer, but other than that we seemed to have lucked out and gotten away with our little romp.

I gripped Peeta's hand and pulled him past the library, only jerking to a halt when my hunter's ears heard voices. I heard a groan and a sigh of exasperation before my head could whip to the side.

"What are you doing?" I asked suddenly.

Hazelle whipped around quickly, her grey eyes wide. She offered me a terse smile before stepping to the side, motioning to my mother in a wheelchair.

"Oh! Katniss! You startled me! Where did you come from?"

I gripped Peeta's hand and tried to keep myself in check. "I…we were just down the hall. What are you doing?" I asked again.

Hazelle shook her head in exasperation and shrugged. "Just giving your mother her pill before the reception. She has to take them before every meal to help her not get ill," she answered smoothly.

My eyes fell to my mother, who was slumped over in her wheelchair, her shoulders leaning against one side and her blue eyes still as vacant as ever.

"Oh," I sighed, shaking my head. "Sorry. I didn't realize she took medication before meals," I answered sheepishly. I immediately felt a pang of regret and shame wash over me. Perhaps if I visited more often I'd know more, but…my own selfish fears and needs had kept me from spending as much time with my mother as I probably should have.

Hazelle gave me a tight smile. "Its fine dear, I'm happy to do it. Cora is out celebrating, so I thought I'd help her out today. Anything for my friend here," she sighed, patting my mother's shoulder.

I watched as Hazelle brushed off her hands and positioned herself behind my mother's chair. Pushing her forward, she offered me another smile.

"Thanks," I offered meekly as she rolled her past. Peeta gripped my hand and placed a soft kiss on my cheek as we watched them go back to the foyer.

"Come on Katniss. Let's get back to the party."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Katniss isn't usually the type to submit and Peeta isn't the type to claim, however...I felt that they needed it right here. Geez, maybe I should write some BDSM Everlark after this one...*fans self* Sometimes I guess you just need a little bathroom romp! lol.
> 
> Anywho, part two of the wedding coming up next! So much fun to hear your thoughts and theories as we draw to a close. What did you all think of their bathroom romp? Of Prim's wedding?


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38: It All Falls Down

Hazelle followed us back to the main foyer. I'm not sure if she suspected what we'd done, but her look was un-approving none the less. A few people stopped to stare at my slightly wrinkled dress and mussed hair as we walked back into the cocktail hour but I was confident that our tryst would remain a secret.

Hazelle turned around and gave me a strange look, her eyes appraising me openly. "Are you enjoying the night so far?"

I frowned and Peeta elbowed me. "It's all lovely," he said politely, "These three women are so lucky to have a family that cares so much about them."

Hazelle's smile faltered momentarily before she could replace it with a toothy grin from her veneer filled mouth.

"Yes, well….it was our honor to throw Prim the wedding she always dreamed of. It's not every day you get married into a family like ours."

Peeta balked and wore a frown that matched my own. His mouth hung slightly open as we both tried to recover from her slight.

"Katniss, you have a piece of hair that's fallen out of your braid. You might want to fix it before your toast dear," she smiled, cocking her head to the side. She gave me one last reproachful look before turning on her heel and disappearing into the crowd of people.

Peeta snorted. "Well….I take it she knows we defiled her bathroom."

I snorted, shaking my head. My smile faded as I replayed out stilted conversation. "Did she seem weirdly….defensive?"

"She's always a little…weird. I mean….isn't she? She reminds me of that crazy mom and their family's reality show….she had all those kids that were famous for nothing."

"I know which one you mean. I don't know, she just seemed…weirder than usual."

Peeta sighed, running his hand along my bare back. He tucked a piece of stray hair back into my braid and gave me an approving stare. "I wish I could take you away from all of this. It's not fair that you have to re-live the past."

I watched as one of Rory's work associates stood on the bottom step of the staircase and clinked his champagne glass. He began a dry speech about his friend and I had to wonder how much they were paying him to say nice things about Rory and the rest of the family.

"It's for Prim. And my mom. I mean…shit, they're family now."

"I know," he sighed. His trailing handmade goose bumps rise up on my back as the memory of our bathroom experiment came back to me again. I turned to eye him. "They're just…they were always like family to you – at least from what I gathered of what little you told me about them. Now it's official."

"Just because they're family doesn't mean I have to spend time with them. In fact, it's more common to be rude to family than it is acquaintances."

Peeta smirked.

After countless toasts and well wishes from Rory's work associates and other important townspeople, the cocktail hour concluded. People started filing out of the decorated foyer into the tent that been changed from ceremony décor to an elegant dinner setting.

"We can avoid this family all you want, but I am grateful for their bathroom," he whispered as people filed past us. Peeta shot me a secretive smile that made me tingle slightly before I could control it. I didn't miss the way his eyes roamed appreciatively over my black bridesmaids dress, his pupils dilating slightly. Just the sight of his wide blue orbs looking at me with such appreciation me want to grab out coats and leave as soon as Prim tossed the bouquet. I downed another glass of champagne and tried to remind myself that this was almost over and soon I could go home and avoid this place for another few weeks.

As soon as the thought entered my mind I felt guilty. I shouldn't avoid this place just because of Gale – I needed to spend time with my mother. I knew I'd been staying away from here lately, too wrapped up in my own troubles to even think of hers. What if the only thing keeping her from waking up out of her trance was the lack of family involvement?

I sighed and grabbed another glass from a tray being carried around the reception area. Prim was far too self-involved to ever spend proper time working with my mother. And as diligently as Cora worked, I knew it wasn't the same as having her own daughter work with her. If I was ever going to help her out of her fog, I knew I needed to commit my time and really do something differently. But what? I had no idea what kind of help my mother needed or even what the specifics of her condition were. I only knew that she was in a fog I couldn't seem to help her out of no matter how hard I tried. Each visit seemed more ill-fated than the last. While I wanted to whisk my mother away from the Hawthornes I knew I couldn't compete with the round the clock care they gave her.

After the wedding, I told myself. Now that Prim's circus-like nuptials were out of the way I knew I would be able to focus. I was an adult; I knew I needed to push Gale's awkward advances out of my mind and buckle down to help my mother recover. Gale would not keep me from fixing her. Peeta moved to my side, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"We'll need to find another use for this dress."

I sighed mournfully. "I know. It was ridiculously expensive so I technically should find a way to wear it every day for what it cost."

"No," he chuckled, "I couldn't care less about that. It just looks so fantastic on you that it makes me want to go somewhere we have to get dressed up at least once a week. Just to see you wear it," he sighed into my ear. I shivered in response.

"You enjoyed it I take it?"

He gave me a demure smile and bobbed his head as his eyes scanned the tent. "I rather enjoyed seeing it pushed up to your hips, yes."

I burst out in a fit of giggles as a few people glared at us.

"Sorry," I mouthed, not feeling particularly sorry at all. This was a wedding for shit's sake – weren't people supposed to be happy?

"Such class," Peeta teased. "Do you allow men to take you to bathrooms and have their way with you often?"

I shook my head. "No, this incidence was a first."

"A first of many, I hope?"

"That could be arranged," I deadpanned quietly, leaning into his side. I didn't miss the way his blue eyes glinted with mischief. I knew then that our trip to the bathroom together had been just what he needed to get over Gale.

People were taking their seats in the ornate while tent that had been earlier used for the ceremony. During the cocktail hour in the foyer, the servants for the day had transformed it from a wedding venue to a reception hall. The white tables were stacked with shimmering vases of white roses with silver, sparkling branches reaching out of the sides. Crystals were hung from the delicate little branches, the light from the hundreds of white candles making them sparkle and flash with miniature rainbows. A band was set up in the corner of the room and had begun to play as people filed into their seats. Prim and Rory were to be seated at a Sweetheart table by themselves in the front of the room so Peeta and I could at least sit together for dinner. We found our table towards the side of the tent and sat down for a few moments, rising only when Prim and Rory were announced.

My sister proudly flounced into the room on her new husband's arm, her cheeks pink with glee that everyone was clapping for them. They made their way to the table and sat, everyone aw-ing as Rory pulled out her chair. Prim giggled and looked around the room with a bright smile as everyone clinked their glasses for them to kiss.

"I'll be glad when this is over," I sighed.

"That makes two of us."

He took another sip of his drink and frowned out at the empty dance floor as people filed into the room. "What?" I asked.

He shook his head. "Nothing, I just…what was Hazelle doing with your mother?"

I shrugged. "Just…I guess giving her medicine. I know she takes a few, but I guess I could ask Cora tomorrow or whenever I see her."

Peeta shook his head. "I duno, I would. I mean Hazelle is drunk half the time I've seen her; you might want to make sure she even knows how much or how little to give her."

"Good idea," I nodded. I knew Hazelle wasn't the most responsible or competent person, but she did seem to really care about my mother and her recovery. As much as I could hardly stand the vapid woman I knew I did owe her a lot of helping my mother through her breakdown. When I thought of how much I truly owed the Hawthornes for their continued care of my mother the weight of it all threatened to drown me. I could never repay them for what they'd done.

We sat quietly through dinner, both of us somewhat relaxed as we ate the decadent five course meal. They'd really spared no expense and it showed. I wasn't sure who they were trying to impress – everyone in town knew they were loaded and had more money than God. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the decadent set up. A swan-shaped ice sculpture, a chocolate fountain taller than Prim, a caviar bar….it was a lot. Waiters were stationed beside each table, refilling the Dom Perignon Champagne every chance they got.

Peeta's hand rested on my thigh and only tightened slightly as Gale sat down across from us. I noticed the spot next to him where his plus one should have been was noticeably empty. I knew he didn't have time to date anyone but I at least assumed he would bring some arm candy for the sake of having a date. That and to throw it in my face. Did he realize –finally – that I didn't care?

I could feel Gale trying to catch my eye over the ornate centerpiece, his steely gaze following me as I pretended to look around the room. I could feel Peeta's hand begin to sweat against the fabric covering my thigh, so I did the only thing I could think to do that might distract him.

I leaned over and squeezed his upper leg, brushing my mouth against the shell of his ear. "Round two later?"

Peeta's stoic demeanor finally broke and he gave me a toothy grin as he nodded enthusiastically. I kept my hand on his thigh for the rest of the dinner and even offered him my free hand when the music started up again.

"May I have this dance?"

He gave me a surprised look but nodded, tossing his napkin onto his plate. We ignored Gale's iron stare as I led Peeta to the dance floor and let his arm encircle my waist. He began to smoothly sway to the music, the soft tones practically melting against my ears as we moved together. I was clumsy and so was he, but together we were able to at least create the façade that we could at least slow dance together.

"Thank you for coming tonight," I said. "Are you feeling…better?"

He nodded. "Yes. I mean…you get why I'm jealous of him sometimes, right?"

"I do. But it's silly. I told you…you really don't have to be. You've sacrificed so much for me Peeta," I told him, staring into his eyes. The soft brown and blue tones of his unique irises were a welcomed sight. "Out of all the people I owe for helping me through these past three months, I owe you the most."

He shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, Katniss. I do it because I love you."

I felt my mouth stretch into a smile. "And that right there is why I love you too."

Leaning forward, I rested my chin on his shoulder as we swayed, the band's soft tones lulling me into a state of calm that I hadn't felt in weeks. Peeta's warm breath blew across my shoulder, reminding me that he was always there to look out for me. Even though we'd had our quick, hot tryst in the bathroom earlier, I vowed to take him back to our apartment later and prove to him just how much he meant to me as many times as it took.

I never wanted him to feel slighted or jealous of Gale again.

The song eventually ended, sending us back to our chairs. Prim and Rory did all of the traditional things; the cake cutting, the bouquet toss, and even the garter toss. Prim danced with Mr. Hawthorne, Rory with his mother, and eventually Prim and Rory alone. There were toasts and well wishes and rounds of applause before Mr. Hawthorne finally took the stage a few minutes before midnight and tapped on the microphone.

I turned and looked at him up on the stage, his white hair glowing in the spotlight. Since his business had taken off he'd gone completely gray; where he once had dark, wavy hair like Gale, he now had his silvery hair cut into a clean, short style. His white beard was styled the same; short, perfectly trimmed, and completely white. His cheeks were pink with liquor as he spoke, his puffy lips stretched into a fake smile as he looked out at the crowd. He looked at least twice his real age; the stress and multiple plastic surgeries he'd had since striking it rich had done little to make him appear younger. I watched his snake-like eyes settle on the happy couple along the side of the room.

"My dear friends, I am so honored to have you all in my home this evening. Thank you kindly for attending tonight to join Rory and my new daughter Primrose in the celebration of their union. I am so delighted to be able to ring in the new year with such a promising event. This night is a night the Hawthorne family will treasure for always. Now, please join us on the back patio for one more surprise."

One thing I wasn't was surprised. Of course the Hawthornes would have planned something extravagant and wild for the finale of the night – that was their style. Gale walked by me with a smirk as all of the guests crowded out onto the patio to see what his father was referring to. Once the entire mass of guests was out on the cool, dark patio, a loud booming noise made everyone jump. I heard cries of glee and delight as people 'ooh'd and 'ahhh'd' as a bright spark darted up from the back lawn and into the sky. It erupted into a bright blast of light, the noise resounding against the cold night air.

"Fireworks…" Peeta muttered. "Shheesh. But why am I surprised?

I gripped his hand and watched as the stunning show only increased by the second. Within minutes, dozens of fireworks were being shot up into the sky at once, the brilliant show framed by the twinkling night sky in the background. The loud booms cracked one after another after another….

I swayed on my feet as the vision hit me. Only now the booming noise wasn't here…it was in my memory.

I could hear the gravel churning beneath my tires as I drove up the mountainside. Our house wasn't far from the road leading up to the mines; we'd heard the booming series of blasts and the horrible explosion that occurred soon after. The car skidded into the parking lot of the mines which were already blocked off with yellow tape and vehicles with flashing lights. I threw open the door and rushed out, the door catching my face and splitting my lip as I threw it open. Pain radiated through my face. I didn't care though. I pushed through the crowd of surveyors and miners and saw the black smoke billowing from the doorways of the mines.

Gale came flying out of the trailer, a phone in one hand and a radio in the other. His father was grim faced beside him as people swarmed around them for answers. I could hear them murmuring beside me about miners being trapped too deep in the depths of the mountain.

"Retreat mining," they'd all been saying. "Kid was off his rocker."

I ignored their voices and ran towards the trailer. Gale's eyes met mine as the chaos unfolded around us. More explosions made the earth tremor and more black smoke fill the air.

"Katniss! Katniss, you have to get out of here!"

He raced over to me and I immediately gripped his shoulders to anchor myself. He was trembling.

"No Gale, where is he? Where's my dad?"

I didn't need an answer. Gale's face drained of all color for a moment as I gripped his shoulders in my hands that were suddenly clasped into claws. I could taste blood in my mouth as I realized that Gale knew exactly where my father was.

He was trapped inside the mines.

"He's trapped. He's trapped!" I screamed, shaking him with every bit of force I could muster.

Gale didn't have time to answer. A deafening boom pierced the cloudy air – this one louder than all the others. Everyone around us quickly clapped their hands over their ears and ducked down. Tthe sound of rocks colliding and cracking together so loud it made me lose my grip on Gale and cover my ears. I gasped in shock and terror as the mine with the most smoke billowing out of it began to crumble.

"No!" I screamed, darting forward. My tears blinded me as I lurched towards the direction of the mine, but strong arms caught me.

"No Katniss! You can't! No!"

Clouds of dust filled the air as the cracking continued, the sounds of rocks falling and collapsing filling the air. Panicked screaming and yelling joined it, adding to the horrible chaos.

I knew then that my father was gone.

A mine explosion wasn't something you lived through, even if you were as experienced as he was.

"He's gone," I whispered.

The look in Gale's eyes confirmed it.

I gripped Peeta's hand to keep from falling. True to Cinna's words, my memory came crashing down around me like a ton of rocks. I cringed at the comparison and looked at Peeta with wide eyes.

My memory was back.

I could see it all now – the past few months, the years before that….before they were choppy pieces that felt loosely tied together in my mind. Now they were as strong as concrete! It was all back! The momentary happiness I felt to be myself again was instantly shattered as I realized what I'd just remembered. Peeta shook my shoulders again.

"Katniss?"

I blinked and tried to remain on my feet. The fireworks show was ending; the cracks and booms were hitting the finale. Everything seemed to go in slow motion after that. A few people turned to give me strange looks in my peripheral vision, but I paid them no mind.

I looked up, my eyes meeting Gale's. He stood a few feet away, his face drawn and pale and I knew that he knew.

Peeta held onto me tightly, his arms shaking slightly as he fought to keep me from falling over in shock. I stared at Gale as every memory, every single memory came careening into my mind like a flash flood. Gale stood in front of me, his eyes locked on mine as if he knew what had just happened.

"Katniss, are you alright? Talk to me…" Peeta's voice was muffled. I ignored it.

The fireworks ended at once, the crowd applauding behind us, a few people staring at the scene I was making by almost falling over and clutching to Peeta as I gave Gale a death stare. But I couldn't seem to see or hear them. I kept Gale's eyes on mine as the noise died down. He opened his mouth slowly to speak.

"Katniss?"

My name on his tongue was a question.

I straightened up and gripped Peeta's hand in mine.

"Gale," I said finally, my voice cracking. "I remember. I remember it all now."

His eyes widened. A few people stopped and stared, their confused gazes darting between the three of us as we stood on the balcony in the middle of the crowd. "I remember it all," I repeated. "And last time I could remember everything, I wasn't sure. But now I'm positive. Gale, you killed my father."


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39: Aftermath

My memories came slamming back to me in an overwhelming flurry of activity, the pictures and voices and clips all whirling together in my mind in a big, overwhelming blur.

As confusing as it all was, one thing stuck out for certain.

Gale had killed my father.

Of course the haze of details surrounding it was still fuzzy, but that's only because so many of them had come rushing back to me. Cinna had told me there was a good chance everything could come flying back, and I'd only half believed him until now. My memory had come slamming back to me with astounding speed and had hit me like a bolt of lightning, catching me so completely off guard it made me weak in the knees.

But I did remember.

The cold air bit at my lungs as I turned to face Gale square on. The crowd of wedding guests backed away from us on the balcony, their stunned faces becoming the backdrop to my meltdown. The color drained from Gale's face as he stared at me. I think he knew what was about to happen and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Katniss…"

"You killed him," I spat, my voice a shaky whisper. "You killed him," I repeated. "You sent him down into that mine and you came out on top, didn't you?"

Peeta froze beside me, his hand still locked with mine. I leaned against him for support, my legs still feeling like Jell-O. I heard him shakily exhale as a rush of frantic whispers went up through the crowd. Prim pushed her way through, Rory on her heels. She wrapped her white fur shawl around her shoulders and looked over at Gale with an astonished look on her pale face. He stood like a statue – drained of all color and emotion. I didn't even care that I'd called him out on basically murdering my father in front of over a hundred people. I wanted people to know that he was a killer.

"Katniss? What is this?" Prim asked. She looked over at Gale, then at me. "What's happening?

The crowd around us twittered nervously again, their voices of confusion still dull to my ears. I swallowed back a mouthful of bile, shaking my head as I cupped my hand against my mouth. I wanted to throw up and scream and punch him and run as far away from here all at once, but my feet were somehow glued to the ground.

"Ask Gale. Ask him what happened to dad."

Gale gave me a steely look as he tried to save face. "Let's not accuse people of things you're not sure of, Catnip."

I hissed in anger, violently shaking Peeta off of me to lunge forward. "That's just the thing though," I said, clenching my teeth. "I wasn't sure until just now. Before I was too consumed with grief and confusion to realize everything but now I know. I stepped back and looked at everything with a fresh set of eyes and guess what? Things don't add up Gale and you know it."

Gale's gaze hardened until his eyes looked like granite. I had humiliated him and his silence was only making him look guilty. The wheels in his brain were clearly ticking as he figured out how to play this off but I wouldn't let him.

"Mining is dangerous," Gale finally said, holding out his hands. He looked out at the confused crowd of wedding guests huddled around him on the balcony. "Everyone knows that. What happened to your father is a tragedy, but it wasn't my fault."

I laughed bitterly. "No. I remember now. I didn't realize it then but I know it's true. You sent him into that mine knowing it was dangerous. You used a type of mining you knew he knew because he'd done it before. And it was outlawed for being too dangerous, wasn't it? But you knew the payoff would be too big so you did it anyway. You killed my father out of greed, Gale Hawthorne."

Gale was silent.

I watched as Mr. Hawthorne appeared in the doorway of the balcony, his beady eyes focused on me. I gave him a sneer that he returned with a steely gaze that mirrored Gale's. Everyone on the balcony turned to look at him as our dirty little secret played out like a soap opera. I swallowed the dry lump in my throat.

"Figured you out, didn't I Cornelius?"

The older man stared at me, his snake-like eyes calculating. The people around us began to whisper again as the scandal unfolded in front to them. Peeta reached out to place his shoulder on my hand. "Come on Katniss…this isn't the time," he pleaded quietly.

I shrugged him off and huffed into the cold air. "They killed my father Peeta. And for what?"

Gale let out a growl behind me, turning in a semi-circle. "The party is over. Everyone leave."

A few people balked in surprise, not quite sure what to think. Their faces all registered shock, but clearly none of them wanted to leave and miss this shit show. I ignored them, staring forwards at Gale as rage and realization boiled to the surface.

He clenched his jaw. "I said, GET OUT!" he bellowed, his pale face quickly turning red. He turned to look at the crowd with an enraged expression. "Get out of here, go home, leave! Get the fuck out of my house. All of you."

People slowly filed out of the balcony, murmuring things about 'crazy' and 'outrageous'. You forgot murderer, I thought bitterly. Once the balcony was empty of wedding guests, Gale turned back to me and opened his mouth but I cut him off.

"You killed him. You and your sick family killed my father and covered it up for years," I hissed. I motioned to the bright white house behind me. "Was it worth it?"

"Look, whatever you think-"

"-Fuck you Gale Hawthorne. Fuck you and your money and your mines. You're a murderer," I said, shaking my head at him. Hot tears burned the backs of my eyelids as I turned on my heel and made a beeline for the balcony doors. No one made a move to follow me as I violently pushed past Gale's father and into the now empty house. I grabbed the first thing I could find – something large, shiny, and crystal – and hurled at the marble floor. It shattered with an earsplitting crash, the hundreds of pieces of crystal flying in every direction. It didn't matter though – nothing could quench the fiery pain that was careening through my heart.

My ex fiancé and his family – my family, practically- had knowingly sacrificed the life of my father and for what? A big house and some neat cars? Hired help? Crystal vases?

It wasn't fair.

I blinked back the tears as I hurried back through the house, just needing to get away. My black bridesmaids dress quickly became tangled in my too-high shoes as I walked back to the empty tent on the back of the house. I kicked them off and paused, wiping my eyes to try to see. My chest throbbed as I fought to make sense of the slew of memories coming back to me.

I was me again, but I didn't like it. I had been right to fear this moment. The hurt was too big – I couldn't take it. The pain and the memories and the picture of my father's face….

I grabbed an untouched bottle of the Dom Perignon off the table, desperate for anything that could dull the feelings ripping through my chest. My heart clenched as I tore off the top and tossed it aside. I took a needy chug of the bubbly liquid straight from the bottle, struggling to down as much as I could. The heady bubbles went instantly to my head, making the pain subside for a moment. The smell of roses from the numerous bouquets around the room was suddenly making me want to gag as I took another long pull straight from the bottle. In my pain I'd completely forgotten that Prim, my little sister, had willingly married into this family of monsters. I let out a strangled sob before clutching the bottle and bolting for the door. I yanked a white tablecloth off one of the tables before I left, sending the dishes careening to the floor. I didn't care anymore.

The cold air hit me again as I wrapped the cloth around my shoulders. The hard, frozen grass crunched mercilessly at the bottoms of my feet as I walked across the dark lawn with my bottle of champagne clutched in my hands.

It was all too much.

I walked into the blackness a couple hundred yards before collapsing onto the hard earth with a grunt. The house sat up on a tall hill overlooking the town below, but I could barely see. My bleary eyes took in the sight of the twinkling city lights as the rest of the world celebrated a new year. I blew out a breath of white air as I pulled the tablecloth tighter around my shoulders and took another long pull off the bottle.

I felt like a fool to have not realized what happened before my accident. How could I have not seen that my father's death was Gale's doing? I suppose I'd gotten to see his true colors the past few months. Before I didn't think a person I loved could do something so unspeakable. I'd broken up with him because we didn't fit anymore – not because I hated him. It wasn't fair to marry someone I didn't feel passionately about; that much I definitely remembered. I had known years ago that Gale and I would eventually fizzle out, and my father's death had made me want to live life to the fullest. It wasn't right to waste Gale's time like that. Even after our breakup I remember still thinking of his family as my own. Gale deserved to be happy and so did I – I had just grasped we weren't going to find that in each other. I could remember still loving him, but not in the way he deserved to be loved.

Gale was bitter about our breakup but the way he was now was different. Darker. Colder.

But I didn't realize it then, because I'd only had one part of the equation. I only knew him as my ex that I loved, but not enough to marry. Then came my accident. With the fuzzy memories of my relationship with him nearly gone, I'd been left with the other part of the equation. The past few months made me realize he wasn't the same person I'd dated so long ago and had I slowly learned that he was capable of such a thing. Now that I had my new knowledge of him and the memories of the past was I only just able to piece it all together. Two plus two finally equals one, I thought.

The truth was there and it rocked me to the core.

Gale really had killed my father.

I remember Gale's promotion – he'd been in charge of looking at maps and graphs to figure out where to mine next. I could clearly remember him talking about one area that was dangerous, but he was so sure it would be profitable.

"What are you looking at?" I asked, looking over his shoulder. Gale turned and gave me a fleeting glance as he shuffled through the papers on the coffee table in front of him. He'd been holed up in our apartment all weekend pouring over these papers and charts.

"Nothing, I just….I'm not sure what to do."

"Want to talk about it?"

He shrugged. "Not much to talk about."

"You sure?"

I knew he wanted more than anything to please his father. This new promotion meant the world to him. "I think I found where I want to mine next."

"So," I said, "You're foreman now. You're in charge; tell them where to mine."

"I want to," he sighed. "The payoff on this would be…monumental. Huge. But it's not that simple. I'm not sure I like the way I'd have to mine this area to get what I wanted."

"Can't you send your best guys in there to do it?" I asked, moving to sit beside him. The charts and information splayed out in front of us made next to no sense to me, however, Gale was quickly becoming an expert. He'd had his promotion for almost six months now. While he was doing well, I know his father still breathed down his neck every chance he got. I reached out, rubbing my hand on his back before thinking. Gale cast me a slightly annoyed look that made me pull my hand back. The last thing he wanted when he was upset was a physical touch.

"Sorry," I mumbled. "So you won't do it?"

"No, I'll do it. I just…I have to use a technique to get there that can be a little dangerous. Little old school, but I think it could get the job done."

Another few months had gone by after our conversation, so I naturally forgot all about it. Then came the blast that killed my father. I'd been so paralyzed with pain for months afterwards that it had been hard to pay much attention. The three of us all dealt with it in different ways; my mother went catatonic, I'd taken to sleeping half the day, and Prim had taken all her grief out on me. My father's accident had been written off by Hawthorne Industries as an accident, pure and simple. Mining was a dangerous profession and at the time, no one asked questions – including me. It never even dawned on me that the family I'd learned to call my own was capable of such a thing.

I remembered the haze that followed. I got up and went through the motions of my day after the funeral, but I'd only been halfway living for months after his death. It all made sense now; I'd been in too much of a grief-ridden fog to realize the exact timeline of just when Gale's family had inherited their fortune. In the middle of the whirlwind that happened after that, I hadn't realized all of the details that were now as clear as day. I felt like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, but my love for my father and sadness over his death had overshadowed any lingering doubts about Gale's cover story that the entire thing had been an accident.

I took another long sip from the bottle and sighed, placing it in my lap. My fingers tore at the green label as I lost myself in deep thought. Memories poured into my mind – things I'd been searching for in my head for months now. Gale's voice seemed to ring in my brain as I remembered him talking about the part of the mine he wanted to get to.

Gale had used an 'old school' type of mining – retreat mining – that was by far the most dangerous type in order to get what he wanted. I wasn't a scholar on the subject of coalmining, but I'd listened to my dad tell enough stories over the years to understand and piece the entire thing together now. The big haul – the mining find that would help him strike it rich. I wasn't surprised some of his newer teams of miners didn't know how to do such a type of thing – the practice of extracting the beams from the roof of the mine allowing it to collapse back towards the entrance was long abandoned, and with good reason. It was dangerous and only worked about eighty percent of the time; however, it was highly successful when dealing with new routes. Naturally Gale used my father to help him out with this – he was one of the more experienced miners he had.

Rage surged through me as I realized how stupid I'd been to not piece it all together before now. He'd used my father and gambled on his life – and lost.

I placed the diamond ring on the coffee table, twisting my hands. They felt lighter without the large diamond adorning my left hand. I shook my head and looked around the large room of the new home the Hawthornes had just acquired. It didn't feel right being here – this wasn't me.

Money changed people. I hated to think that way, but I did. I'd grown up poor, and so had Gale. We weren't ashamed of it; we worked hard and so did our families. We didn't take charity or handouts. We were in need but not needy by any means. Of course I'd secretly dreamt about what having money would be like more than a time or two, but I'd never voiced it. I was proud of my family and what we were, and openly wishing for more money was an insult to that. As a girl I'd dreamt about what it would be like to have money and be rich and to live in one of the big fancy houses up on the hill; however, those wishes stayed in the dark corner of my mind with my deepest, darkest fantasies. I'd never even considered it until now.

When Gale purposed I'd been so overwhelmed with everything. He'd waited two months after my father died to do it, and I'd been so happy to have something else to focus on that I'd said yes. He'd whisked me away from all of my problems so fast my head was still spinning almost six months later. My father's funeral bills were taken care of, my credit card bills paid off, my mother was in therapy and getting the medication she needed to function, and I was living in a fairytale house up on a hill.

Everything had been fixed and taken care of on the outside, but on the inside….it didn't feel that way.

Gale was always gone; working late, out with coworkers, in a meeting. I spent my days alone for the most part, everyone around me enjoying the benefits of the Hawthorne Industries' shiny new bank account.

But I couldn't seem to enjoy it. I was still in a blank fog as I tried to piece together how my father could have died. I loved Gale and I trusted him; I knew he'd never put him in danger. But how could such an experienced miner have an accident like that? Nothing made sense. Not my father's accident, not my new life as Gale's fiancé….nothing.

I felt like I was suffocating.

The tall, ornate grandfather clock chimed on the wall, the noise echoing through the large space of Gale's study. I bowed my head and twisted my hands again as I refused to look at the diamond ring on the coffee table in front of me. It was time to give it back and move on with my life. Everyone around me had, and it was time I moved on and did the same.

Except I was moving in a different direction. Where, I wasn't sure. But I knew I wanted out of here. This wasn't for me and I couldn't spend another day trapped in this beautiful prison of a house. I loved Gale too much to marry him out of obligation and pity. He deserved more than that and so did I.

I didn't feel alive anymore.

The door creaked open slowly, making me jump. I chewed my lip as Gale's eyes immediately met mine. He looked tired; he always did. I watched him nod at me and shuffled over to the cabinet in the corner. His long, nimble fingers closed around a glass tumbler that he immediately filled with his new favorite thing – scotch – and walked over to the chair opposite me.

"Katniss," he greeted. "What are you doing up?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes immediately fell to the table between us, my diamond ring settled in the center. His mouth twitched slightly and he took a sip of his drink. "You want to trade up already? Fine, I'll get you a bigger one," he snapped.

I closed my eyes and sighed. "You know that's not what I meant by that Gale."

He was silent a moment, the lack of sound looming between us. The clock in the corner clicked as the seconds rolled by, neither of us speaking for at least a hundred counts.

Finally, I opened my eyes and looked at him. "I can't do this."

He leaned forward and gave me a piercing stare. "You don't have to do anything, Katniss. That's the beauty of this."

"But….this? This isn't for me. This isn't me. I'm not happy here Gale."

"You're living in the past," he stated simply. "Don't you appreciate anything I've done for you?"

"Of course I do. But I can't live like this. You're gone all the time while I sit here in this pristine white mansion and just wait for you. And miss my….." I stopped short of saying 'father'. Gale tended to explode when I said that word, always jumping up and suggesting I medicate myself to numb the pain. He said focusing on my father's death would only bring me down and hated when I tormented myself with thinking about it. I bit my tongue and shook my head. "I'm not someone's trophy Gale. I can't sit here and pretend that this life makes me happy anymore. All I do is sit around and think about things and wait for you to come home to tell me not to think about them. What kind of life is that?"

He leaned back in the leather chair. "So what do you want Katniss? I've given you everything and…I don't know what you want anymore."

"That's just it," I sighed, "What I want you can't give me."

He scoffed. "Impossible."

"No," I insisted, "It's not. I want the old you back – the carefree, fun, best friend I grew up with."

"I have to work hard now. It comes with the territory," he snapped, moving to stand. "I can't be that guy anymore. He was poor. Desperate. Clinging to life like it was all he had. That's not me anymore, Katniss."

"So money is all that matters to you now?"

He turned to me with a ferocious glare. "I work hard to give you this life and all you do is throw it back in my face like an ungrateful bitch!" he growled. "I have done everything for you. You have everything you need to be happy and yet you're still miserable. My old life was nothing short of pathetic. I'm not going back to that just because you're unhappy."

Anger seethed from my lips. "I could say the same about you," I spat. "It's disgusting that you view your old life as pathetic. How dare you throw away what our fathers worked hard to give us?"

"Don't you see?" he growled, fisting his hair with his free hand. "I'm not throwing it away, I'm building on it. I'm adding to what they wanted to accomplish! Katniss, my father finally views me as an equal. Do you know what that's like?"

I knew Gale and his father had always had a rocky relationship. Mr. Hawthorne was always tough on his oldest son, claiming he didn't want to leave the family business to 'just anyone.'. Gale had spent much of his adult life trying to life up to his father's expectations.

"No, Gale, I don't. Because my father is dead," I said quietly. I looked at the ring on the table. "I need to leave. Get out on my own and just….figure things out."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

I shrugged. "It means I'm giving you your ring back for now because I want to get away from here and just….clear my head. Without…all this," I said, motioning to the elaborate study around me. Gale rolled his eyes.

"When you see what's out there, you'll be back. You'll realize what I did for you Katniss. Someday."

But he hadn't anticipated just how much I would realize it. I now had all the pieces and they were finally fitting into place. I'd moved out the next morning, taking my things and leaving the diamond and Gale behind. I'd gone back to school after that – I'd been too stricken with grief after my father died to return for my senior year, so I at least had that to land on after the breakup. I'd moved into some low-rent student housing on the other side of town and done my best to finish, but school wasn't where I wanted to be either. I realized school was the reason I hadn't been paying attention to what Gale was doing in the first place, and my determination to stay detached after my father's death was what kept me from even helping Prim and my mother manage.

I could remember summer coming – and returning to the bakery. I met Peeta while I was still engaged to Gale, but after the accident I stopped going into the bakery as often. I came back and I could remember the pained look in his eye when he asked me out and I'd told him about my fiancé. It was hard to look at him after that, so I had avoided him. As my depression worsened after our breakup, I could remember going back one day after realizing my new housing was just a few blocks away from the bakery I used to love so much.

My fingers closed around the handle of the door, swinging it open with a little effort. The quaint little bakery was located in the older part of town and I knew the building was probably at least a hundred years old. I was greeted with the calming scent of fresh baked bread and pastries, the sugary scent clinging to my nose. I shuffled past a few people that were leaving, keeping my eyes down on the worn wooden floor. I stopped in front of the glass case with all the pastries and let my eyes roam over the stocked array of delicious looking items.

But that was only half of the reason I was there.

The kind, sweet baker with the pretty blue eyes had asked me out last winter. He'd been gracious about it when I'd said no, asking to see my 'pretty ring' and politely congratulating me when I'd turned him down. I'd come in less and less after that because I could tell that I'd hurt his feelings, even if I hadn't meant to do it. It wasn't either of our faults that I was engaged and he had asked me out, but it was still a bit awkward at times. So, I'd avoided the bakery and tried to settle back into college classes. I wasn't going to be able to finish my senior year this year; the antidepressants I was taking made it too difficult to concentrate on more than one or two classes at a time. But, that was alright with me. I would take my time and recover, slowly allowing myself to get used to living life without Gale and my father.

My throat tightened as I stared at the case in front of me. Movement on the other side made me finally look up.

Peeta stood on the other side of the case, a bright smile painted across his face. His blue eyes were brighter than ever against his summer tan and they seemed to sparkle in the warm light of the bakery.

"Look who it is. Long time no see," he greeted.

I forced a tiny smile. "Yeah, I….I was just walking past and I realized I haven't been here for one of my favorite bagels in a while. Do you still make them?"

"Apple cinnamon crunch? Every day," he added shyly. "I'll get you one. Hazelnut cream cheese?"

"You guessed it," I laughed weakly. He gave me a miniscule double take as I nodded and tried to look happy. It was a beautiful summer day; the light breeze blowing through the bustling city was warm enough to feel like summer, but cool enough not make the inhabitants miserable. The leaves on the trees had just popped out, casting a light green appearance over their tops. Normally on a day like today I'd be outside, maybe in the woods with Gale. Normally I'd be happy.

But I hadn't been happy in a while.

Peeta walked over, wiping his free hand on his apron. He must have been in the back working on something when I opened the bakery door, making the bell ding.

"Just you today?"

He nodded. "Just me. It's so pretty out; people only seem to want baked goods when it's cold and miserable or if it's a special occasion."

I looked around the empty bakery and nodded. "Maybe you should start serving lunch. I bet you could get a lot of people that way."

He raised his blonde eyebrows and stared at me, his expression one of surprise. I looked up at him and tried to smile in thanks. He had the kindest eyes I'd ever seen – even more so than my father.

"You think?"

I nodded. "I do."

He pressed his lips together and smiled. "I'll think about that. Good idea actually. Well um…I'm glad to see you back. Enjoy the bagel."

I laughed. "I always seem to. I never have any trouble finishing it," I admitted.

Peeta gave me a bright smile before one last friendly nod, heading back behind the counter. I ate slowly that day, taking my time and smearing the creamy topping over the decadent bagel. I really didn't have anywhere to be; Prim wasn't speaking to me, my father was dead, my mother was at home and out of it, and Gale and I had broken up nearly two months ago. I was drowning in anxiety and had practically forced myself out of my apartment. I was trying to move on and failing miserably.

I stood up, pushing my chair in and placing my plate on the tray by the trash can. I was about to leave when Peeta called out.

"Hey! Katniss!"

I turned and looked at him. "Yes?"

He handed me a Styrofoam cup with a lid, offering me a crooked smile. His unruly hair had fallen in his eyes as he jogged his way up from the back of the bakery, making him wipe a flour-covered hand across his forehead. I had to smile as I accepted the cup; I was willing to bet everything he owned smelled like flour, sugar, or cinnamon.

"I know its summer but I remembered your favorite," he offered meekly as my hands curled around the warm cup.

I took a sniff from the small hole cut in the lid and smiled. "Hot chocolate. Yeah, that's my favorite. Um…" I reached for my purse.

"No, no,….it's…its fine. It's free as long as you promise to come back," he chuckled. I watched his cheeks turn slightly ruddy with embarrassment.

"I promise," I smiled. "I'll be back."

Peeta flashed me one last smile before I pushed the front door open. The familiar, comforting smell of the rich drink wafted up from the small opening in the cup, making my mouth water. Once outside, I paused on the sidewalk to pry open the lid to help it cool. I wanted to drink it as soon as I could. By chance, I glanced down at the foamy top he'd put on it – that was one of my favorite things about the hot chocolate there. They blended it with heavy cream and gave it a frothy appearance that I secretly loved to eat away at first.

There, in the foam, was a heart.

The memory of me finding my way back to Peeta that day faded in my mind. I don't know what drew me to the bakery that day, but I knew that he had given me hope with that smile and a simple cup of hot chocolate. I lowered my head to my hands and sobbed.

Sometime later, I heard footsteps on the grass behind me. I looked up as Peeta kicked the empty champagne bottle to the side before draping a coat over my shoulders. He pulled me up like a ragdoll, quickly holding me to his chest before I could protest. His warm embrace seemed to cut through the frozen, numb exterior I'd built around myself the past few hours. I was still woozy from downing a bottle of expensive champagne, but no longer felt the tingly, pleasant effects. It had done little to slow my mind; it'd only made me feel like my stomach was full of lead.

"Did you know?" I whispered.

"No," he said slowly. "I suspected, but…no, I didn't know for sure."

I pulled away and looked up at him in the darkness. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"

He blinked and stared down at me, his eyes laced with pain. "If I had…suggested that….what I thought they did, that is….how would that have made me look after your accident?"

He had a point. If he would have burst into that hospital room without me remembering him, ranting and raving like a lunatic about Gale's family being murderers it would have terrified me in that fragile state. I would have left the hospital with the Hawthornes that day and never given Peeta a second thought.

I nodded. "But you still should have told me you suspected, Peeta…" I sniffed.

"How could I? Katniss….what he did….I could never accuse someone of doing something like that. What if I had been wrong? How would you think of me, especially then?"

"But Peeta," I sniffed, "What made you not tell me something like that? Something so important?"

He shook his head. "I didn't want to trick you into choosing me, Katniss. I'm not Gale. I wanted you to pick me on your own."

I swallowed the raw lump in my throat as the cold winter wind whipped around us. He held me tighter and stared down into my eyes with a burning look I couldn't find words to describe.

"I did choose you."

"I know."


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Shatter

My head was pounding as I clung to Peeta in the middle of the cold, desolate lawn. I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't anymore and that scared me. It had all come surging back so quickly it was making my head hurt. It took me quite some time to realize that the ragged breaths I could hear echoing in my ears were my own. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew he would be worried. I knew I was scaring him by reacting this way but I couldn't pull myself out of my current state of shock.

Peeta hugged me harder, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to warm some feeling back into them – not that it mattered. I was numb all over and preferred to keep it that way.

"Let's get you back inside."

I snapped out of my comatose state. "I don't want to go back there," I muttered, shaking my head.

"I just have to get my keys from the valet. I don't even know where my truck is parked," he reassured me. "It'll only take a second."

My throat was tight and the cold air made my eyes sting as we made our way back over the frozen lawn towards the house. It was still lit up like the sun in the middle of the day, the windows glowing brightly despite the dark night. I exhaled slowly, my breath feeling frozen even as it left my mouth. We walked unsteadily up to the house, Peeta supporting me as I stumbled slightly from my binge on champagne. That had definitely not been the best plan to down the entire bottle, but I was stupidly seeking a temporary solace I guess.

Our footsteps echoed against the marble floors as we made our way back into the now empty house. The floor was littered with glittering confetti and trampled rose petals. I slid to a halt and yanked Peeta back.

"What?" he asked.

I balked, my mouth opening several times but no words coming out.

"Katniss…"

"The…the rose petals. They were for guests to throw after Prim and Rory were going to leave for the honeymoon."

Peeta sighed, shifting his weight to place his hands on my shoulders. "A few people stuck around after Gale's rant to wish them off. They already left."

I stared at his mouth, trying to make sense of the words. Prim had seen my outburst, heard my words and hopefully pieced it together for herself and yet….yet by now she was probably on a plane to someplace tropical with a member of the family that murdered our father. I choked on my own spit and sputtered miserably to try to get a handle on this. I reached out blindly, my fingers twisting into Peeta's dress shirt.

Gale's betrayal hurt.

But Prim's betrayal stabbed my very core.

Prim was gone. She had gone with Rory despite everything that had happened. She had married into the Hawthorne family after they killed my father. She'd allowed herself to leave with that monster.

"Katniss," I heard Peeta say, "We don't know if Rory knew. Come on, we…"

He trailed off as my ears began to buzz. My throat was dry from the booze and the cold and I struggled to swallow fresh breaths of air.

"Come on," he pleaded. "We need to get away from here. I need to get you home…babe…"

Reality was becoming too hard to bear. In a brief moment, I caught myself envying my mother for being able to be numb to it all. For being able to tune it all out and live in the safe corners of her mind, blindly missing out on all of the pain the life had to deal out. She didn't have to worry about anything but breathing – she made it look so easy.

But then a harrowing thought hit me; had she known? Did she figure out the truth and before slipping into her trance? Had my mother known all along, ungable to tell anyone in her state, a prisoner to her own mind? Pain sliced through my heart for what felt like the hundredth time that night as I clutched at Peeta's shirt. Another set of tears streamed down my already chapped cheeks, the sting making me wince. Somewhere in the back of my mind I felt Peeta wrap himself around me in the middle of the room, his strong arms cocooning around me. Normally this would have brought me comfort, but tonight in gave me no consolation.

"She left with him," I sobbed, pulling him close. I gasped into his chest as he held me in the middle of the foyer, hand rubbing circles on my back. "She left with that man and now she's family to them Peeta. She's one of them now."

Peeta held me tightly, shaking his head to himself. "I'm sorry."

His simple words did little to calm the rage and sadness I felt. He gently released me, pulling his coat tighter around my shoulders. "We'll get through this."

We made our way to the front doors where a lone valet attendant sill waited. I could hear voices somewhere in the house, so I knew some people still lingered. Honestly it was the only thing keeping me from grabbing a bottle of liquor and a match and burning the fucker to the ground.

I barely realized that we arrived home, or as Peeta carefully carried me up the steps to our lofted bedroom.

"Katniss?" he asked.

I stared into the darkest corner of the room, my grief replacing my anger as I realized just how much the Hawthornes had taken from me. All I could see was his face. And grey eyes…and…his beard. I choked back a sob when I realized I couldn't remember the way my name sounded coming from his lips.

Peeta's hands were on my cheeks and he was gently shaking me. "Katniss…it's alright honey."

My mind told me I should thank him, that I should kiss him and tell him I loved him and I was back to being myself. But I could barely find it in me to move. I was slowly understanding that grief and anguish were like a suffocating blanket of agony that was nearly impossible to kick off.

I felt Peeta lift my dress up and replace it with an old cotton t-shirt before helping me into the bed. I immediately curled onto my side and burrowed down into the thick comforters. His hand lingered on my shoulder for a moment before he sighed.

"We'll get through this…" he murmured. I felt the pressure of his lips against my hair before I finally succumbed to the darkness.

If it was daylight I stared.

If it was dark, I slept.

Peeta went to work, the sun rose and set, days came and went….. But I reduced myself into a coma of self-pity and shame after finding out the truth.

How could I have been so blind? Of course now that I had all the details and everything made sense I was furious with myself for overlooking so many of them for so long.

On the fourth day, Peeta came up to the loft, his heavy footsteps making my eyes fly open. I heard him kick off his clunky shoes before the mattress dipped. He rested on his side facing me, his hands tucked under his cheek. I stared at him with the same unfocused eyes I'd seen on my mother and silently hated myself for it. But I didn't know how to pull myself out.

I couldn't.

I was silently suffocating from the barrage of feelings that had suddenly assaulted me.

Instead of fighting, I gave in to it.

I didn't have the energy to fight anymore.

"Katniss?"

I watched his blue eyes blink slowly as he sighed, his warm, familiar scent washing over me.

"Come back to me," he pleaded quietly. "Wherever you are right now," he sighed in a shaky voice, "Please."

His hand reached out to trace the lines of my cheekbone. His touch was heaven against my numb skin but I couldn't make myself react. When I didn't move, he sighed. I felt the mattress dip again as I slowly closed my eyes. Peeta stood up with a grunt, shuffling to my side of the bed. Wrapping his arms around my back and knees, he lifted me up off the mattress with a jolt and took me down the steps to the downstairs bathroom. I didn't protest as he climbed into the shower with me fully dressed, cranking the faucet until ice cold water was beating down on both of our heads.

The cold water made my skin pebble and the hair on my arms stand on end. I let out a shriek of surprise as the water finally registered with me, chilling me to the bone. My eyes flew all the way open for the first time in days as I cried out with a strangled noise. I looked over. Peeta gasped through the droplets of cold water, his blonde hair matted to his forehead and his clothes sopping wet and sticking to his body. He stared at me with sad, hopeful eyes as I took a shuddering breath under the cold sprays, coughing as the sharp droplets of water hit my skin.

I held out my hand, slowly sticking it directly in the steams of icy water. It stung unpleasantly, making my pebbled skin protest to the shock of it all. It didn't feel good, I realized, but I could feel it.

I blinked through the streams of water and felt myself resurface.

I could feel again.

Beside me, Peeta shook the water from his damp curls, sputtering miserably beneath the cold jets. He swallowed roughly, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry."

I watched his lips move and finally found my voice. "For what?"

"For this."

"I needed to wake up," I sighed, twisting my hand beneath the droplets. Peeta watched me move my hand under the spray of water, his trepidation apparent on his features.

"I just….I finally have you back….. and you left again. I couldn't risk it. Katniss, you…I was so scared."

I looked up into his hurt blue eyes and swallowed the roughness in my throat as tears pricked the back of my eyes.

Peeta stared at me, his eyes hard but gentle all the same time.

"You…are not your mother," he stated simply, his voice tired. He shook his head before standing up straight and opening the shower door. My tired eyes lifted and watched him climb out of the shower, his clothes dripping wet and sticking to him. His damp, tangled hair hung down in his eyes as he watched me cowering on the shower floor, the cold water still beating down on me. Our eyes met and locked.

The hurt I saw reflected in his crystalline blue eyes struck me to the core.

Of course I was still reeling from getting my memory back and hurting over the monumental betrayal I felt, but that all fell away as I realized how selfish I'd been. Peeta was hurting; I could see it in his gaze as he stared at me with confusion and worry. I'd been so astoundingly selfish in my wallowing, so self-involved and pitying that I hadn't even thought of how much my state of numbness might be scaring him. Of course he worried that I would fall into it and never get back – it was exactly what my mother had done.

He sniffed and shook some water away from his eyes, pushing his hair back as it dripped down his wet face and neck. His eyes were turning red with unshed tears and I felt my heart absolutely break as I finally realized what I'd done. I'd gone into a shock so similar to my mother, checking out and abandoning the real world. I could see that fear so clearly in his concerned eyes now and it made me shake with self-loathing as I sat under the cold water.

"I'm so sorry Peeta," I gasped. The hot tears I'd been too numb to cry for days on end suddenly made themselves known. I collapsed in my hands and let out a straggled cry that made my throat burn. "I'm so…so sorry."

Peeta made a choking noise as he lunged forward, his arms reaching to turn off the cold water. Once the spray halted, he sunk to the floor and pulled me over to lean across him as he propped himself up against the tiled wall. I felt myself shake with sobs as my tears mixed with the droplets of cold water streaming down my face. "I'm so sorry…"

"No…" he whispered, "Don't be sorry."

I lifted my head off his soaked shirt and stared at him. "How could I not be sorry Peeta? I did….I disappeared. Just like she did."

He didn't say anything for a moment as my words – the truth- hung in the air. I felt him swallow roughly before his hand reached up and stroked my wet head.

"I was so afraid…." He sighed. "I was so scared I'd lost you a second time."

Another wave of tears hit me as I resumed my place, hugging him tightly. I was freezing and wet and physical miserable but all I could do was cling to him for dear life. "I would never leave you again. Not willingly," I sniffed. I could only hope my words conveyed the finality that I hoped they would.

I meant it – I would never leave Peeta again.

I felt him nod. "I know. But…Katniss, I just got you back. I couldn't…I couldn't bear to lose you again. I barely made it through the first time."

I hugged him tighter and sighed. "You were so wonderful," I said quietly. "You were so patient these past few months. How did you do it?"

Peeta looked at me, craning his neck. "I had to. You're my world, Katniss…I couldn't go down without a fight."

"I'm sorry I blanked out like that these past few days. I…it was easier than dealing with everything. I know that doesn't make it right, but…I just couldn't pull myself out of it. It's easier to be numb and just…exist. I didn't want to live through it."

He didn't say anything again, instead pulling me up from the shower floor. We stepped out of the shower and he wrapped a towel around my shoulders before resting his forehead on mine. "Are we gonna be okay?"

I bit my lip and looked up at him. I could clearly see the wounded look that still lingered in his sad blue eyes and it made a pain slice through my chest to know that I'd been so careless with him. Peeta wore his heart on his sleeve and offered it up freely; I was so careless with it that it made me want to collapse into myself and cry for days.

"Of course we will be," I sighed, "But are you going to be okay? Peeta I was so selfish, I…this isn't easy to admit but I know how awful I've been. I shouldn't have let this get to me the way it has and I was wrong to push you away and…tune out, I guess. That had to be scary."

Peeta looked me square in the eye. "It did," he said quietly. "But I'll always forgive you and I'll always be here for you Katniss. You just have to let me be."

He leaned forward, pressing his warm lips to my still-freezing wet head to place a gentle kiss there. My fingers clutched at the towel around my shoulders and watched as he turned and walked out of the bathroom. I stared blankly forward at the open door as I listened to him walk upstairs to change out of his wet clothes. I felt like my own selfishness and carelessness was suffocating me from the inside out.

He'd assured me that we'd be okay, but I don't think I'd ever forgive myself for scaring Peeta like that.

To add to my punishment, Peeta was as forgiving as he ever was.

After re-showering in hot water, I emerged from the bathroom and changed into fresh clothes before joining him in the kitchen. The winter afternoon was already growing dark, the shortened days not doing much to my already soured mood. He was in his apron at the kitchen's island, rolling dough into perfect little balls.

"What are you making?"

"Cheese buns," he answered sweetly. "I thought we could use some cheering up, and greasy carbs smothered in cheese and butter seem to do the trick for us," he chuckled.

I shuffled across the wood floor until I was behind him, pausing a moment before I wrapped my arms around his stomach and leaned on his back. He paused his work, touching my arm reverently with one of his floured hands.

"You feeling better?"

"Mmmhmmm," I hummed against his back. "Can I help?"

He glanced at me over his shoulder with a crooked grin. "You promise not to burn anything?"

I gave his shapely rear a swat before moving to the opposite side of the counter. The barstool creaked as I flopped down on it. "I'd better just watch," I hummed, leaning my chin on my hand. Peeta smirked at me from across the counter and began slicing the mozzarella cheese for the center of the buns. His skilled hands worked with a speed and efficiency in the kitchen that I couldn't even fathom, yet it calmed my frazzled nerves to watch. As soon as he finished brushing them with oil, he placed them in the oven to cook. I was about to apologize again when there was a knock at the door.

"Cora," he muttered. He walked past me, running his hand affectionately across my shoulders as he made his way to the door. "She told me she would drop off the bag you left at Gale's house the night of the wedding. She's picking Rue up from work tonight."

He opened the door to reveal the Hawthorne's maid and Rue's mother standing there with my duffel in her arms. I stood up and greeted her with a tight hug, tossing the bag beside the entryway.

"Thank you for bringing that."

"It's no problems sugar. You feelin' better?" she asked.

I nodded. "Peeta's been taking care of me. He got me going again," I explained, giving him a grateful smile. He returned it, shutting the door behind my old friend. I turned to Cora and gave her an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry I didn't recognize you by the way."

She smiled and gave me a good natured nod. "Honey, you didn't even recognize this boy right here – you had bigger problems to worry about!" she chuckled.

Peeta ushered her into the kitchen on the promise of tea and cheese buns. Cora settled onto a kitchen stool next to me, her brown eyes widening as Peeta presented her with my favorite treat. We ate and made polite small talk until she turned to me with a serious face.

"What?" I asked, already dreading her answer.

She shook her head. "Things are all up in arms up at that house, Katniss. That is no longer a good place for your mother to be."

"What do you mean? What happened?" Peeta asked.

Cora shook her head. "Gale's daddy is so out of control it is making that whole house turned upside down. Gale is angry, Mr. Hawthorne is angry, and meanwhile Hazelle keeps herself and Posy so drugged up on whatever it is they take to make them level out that neither one of them can barely get up off the couch. We haven't even heard from Rory or Prim yet. Normally at least Prim gives me a call to let me know she made it, but…"

I shifted on the stool, suddenly not hungry, even for cheese buns. "I'm so sorry Cora. That sounds terrible, but….I don't know how to help my mother. I'm ….I'm going to start looking for another job soon but…I still don't think I would make enough to keep her out of there."

Cora shrugged. "I do the best I can, but between Hazelle and Posy not bein' able to do anything and your momma and cleaning up after whatever fit Gale makes when he come home from work….I don't get as much time with her as I used to. I worry about her. She's been better this week though, I will say. I think we might be able to pull her out of this fog she's in."

I sighed. Just when everything was starting to look up between me and Peeta, something with my mother had to come crashing down on me. "I….I don't know what to do," I admitted, looking over at Peeta. He gave me a helpless look. "If Hazelle is out of it, how does my mother get her medicine?"

Cora frowned. "Medicine?"

I nodded. "Um, doesn't she take medicine? For her…illness?"

Rue's mother shook her head. "They took her off her meds a little after she came to live with the Hawthornes – they weren't doin anything and it was awful business trying to get her to take them. All they did was put her in a fog so bad she could hardly keep her eyes open. Terrible stuff."

I shifted in my seat and frowned. "Wait…"

"Honey she isn't on any medicine."

My stomach dropped to my feet. I whipped my head over to look at Peeta, whose wide eyes mirrored my own. I looked back at Cora and grabbed her hand.

"You swear? She doesn't take anything?"

"No," she snapped. "Nothin'. Why? Did you see someone give her something?"

My ears began to buzz as I let the memory from the night of Prim's wedding come back to me. In the flurry of information that followed after getting my memory back, I'd forgotten that we'd caught Hazelle giving my mother her medicine. I thought she'd looked strange, but hadn't given another thought to the incident until just now. Was Hazelle drugging my mother to keep her in a nearly comatose state? Did my mother know something she didn't want her to tell?

"What's going on?" Cora asked. "Your mother doesn't need medicine. She needs human interaction and therapy. Who has been giving her medicine?"

Peeta turned on his heel and dashed to the counter where his phone was charging. I wanted to answer Cora but I could scarcely focus as an entirely new type of anger bubbled up inside of me.

"What's goin on? What medicine?" Cora asked. I let out a shaky breath and shook my head. I should have known better. If the Hawthornes were capable of murder, of course they were capable of this.

"I have to make a call," Peeta muttered, shaking his head. I took Cora's hand in mine and looked her square in the eye.

"We need to have a serious talk."


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41: Remorse

After everything that had happened, my life was now in turmoil.

Having my memory back had only given me a slew of painful memories that I really didn't want back at all. I mean, I guess now I knew what really happened without question, but the pain it caused me to know it all was a heavy price to pay. I guess I'd always known really, it was just that my mind was hiding the most crucial part; the confirmation that the Hawthornes really were the guilty of such atrocious acts.

I knew Gale didn't mean to kill my father. However, he'd still taken the gamble and let him go into the mine. Just the ideas that he was willing to take a risk like that with my father's life made him a murderer in my mind. He would have had to have been completely stupid to not realize the danger he would put my father's crew in, and there was no way he hadn't known. Gale was an ass, but he was an intelligent ass. He'd known that if successful, the new route he'd found was more than worth what he'd originally estimated. I'd spent my entire day after Cora's visit in the local library, poring over local newspaper articles and any information I could find on Hawthorne Industries. To my luck and surprise, most of their routes and mines were documented as public knowledge. If my calculations were correct the blast that had killed my father had opened up a slew of profitable routes that wound deeper into the mines. It had been lucrative and then some for the company.

He'd taken the risk and it had paid off. It had killed my father, but the payday involved in it had I guess been enough to allow him to sleep at night.

And then there was my mother.

She'd been in a depressed haze for months after the accident, too depressed and shell-shocked to ask any questions. I'd checked out already and wasn't around at that point; I barely remember Hazelle calling me after I'd returned to school and telling me that she was going to start 'checking up' on her. They'd been friends for as long as I could remember, so I naturally didn't question her for wanting to look up after her. I'd been too busy swimming in my own grief from my father's death and my breakup with Gale to really question much of anything at that point. I'd selfishly seen it as one less thing to worry about.

The shock I'd felt at Cora's words was almost as bad as the realization about my father. I didn't know what Hazelle had been giving my mother that day in the library but I knew it had something to do with her health. They'd probably been drugging her just enough to keep her in that wheelchair, zoned out and in their house. I imagined Hazelle had enough money lying around to make a less-than-ethical doctor write whatever she wanted down on a prescription pad.

I squeezed my eyes closed as I realized everyone had a price – you just had to figure out what it was. I could only hope that whatever price the Hawthorne family had for putting my father in danger and drugging my mother to cover it up was worth it to them.

Peeta looked over at me with a worried gaze. He squeezed my hand, bringing it to sit on his leg as he chewed the inside of his mouth. I looked around the police station, worrying that we were too late to do anything. After saying a hurried goodbye to Cora, Peeta had called the police and we'd been asked to come down to give a statement. After four cups of crappy black coffee and a two hour wait, we'd finally talked to an officer. After getting our initial statement and hearing our concerns about what was going on, we'd had another hour and a half wait to speak to a detective. After telling the long winded story of the past few years twice in one night I was practically hoarse from talking so much, but I could only hope it was worth it. It had to be.

I needed something to finally go right in this ridiculous equation, but the odds were not in our favor. Our control was limited since my mother was an adult and Hazelle had been named Power of Attorney in my absence. I'd been just a kid when my father died; I was in no state or shape to control her health. I'd signed it away to her best friend instead and it had practically been a living death sentence, I realized. It was stupid and selfish of me to let my sorrow swallow me up like that the first time and it killed me to know I'd nearly done it again. I'm sure I'll never forget the look in Peeta's eyes as he'd held me under the sprays of cold water several days ago.

The haunting fear of losing me still lingered in his eyes when he looked at me.

Ignoring the annoyed receptionist (I'd spent the last hour nervously jiggling my leg against the squeaky tile floor) I leaned over and brought our joined hands up to my lips. I pressed a lingering kiss on the back of his wide, thick hand and felt myself smile at the lingering scent of dill. I could always rely on him to smell like some appealing kitchen scent. He turned back to me and gave me a tired smile.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" I asked.

Peeta's momentary softness was almost instantly gone. "Yes. I hope they fry for what they did to you. And to your mother."

I chewed my lower lip and squeezed his hand.

"What's wrong? I know this is stressful Katniss. You're not having second thoughts, are you?"

I blinked and stared forward. I wanted Gale to fry, just as Peeta had suggested. But…Prim was a different story. Every fiber of me hoped she had been oblivious to their malice and this was all just a terrible mistake.

"I just…I don't know what's going to happen to my sister."

"Oh," Peeta sighed. "Let's just…hope she was as uninformed as you were. I want to believe she didn't have anything to do with this."

"Me too," I sighed.

The memories of New Year's Eve were blurry, and for several reasons. One, the entire thing had happened so fast when it finally did happen that I could scarcely remember anything but the rush of pure angry adrenaline that had flooded me upon learning the truth. Second, I hadn't helped things by foolishly downing more liquor than I had any business drinking. From what I could remember Prim was wearing a look of surprise that you couldn't just fake. But what if my little sister had become as good at lying as the rest of them had? Was she a monster like the rest of them too?

Prim thoroughly enjoyed being attached to a wealthy family – no doubt about it. The appeal of her new lifestyle was written across her face with sheer enjoyment every time I saw her. But surely it couldn't have been worth losing her mother and father?

Leaning back against the pleather chair, I winced at the uncomfortable feeling. It was late; nearly midnight, but the police station was still bustling with activity as the second shift crew carried on with their day. Peeta lightly squeezed his Styrofoam cup of coffee in his free hand as we sat together in the uncomfortable chairs to hear the verdict of what was going to happen with my mother. Part of me wanted to call Prim and warn her what was about to happen, but the other part of me didn't trust her. I didn't want to warn her in case she helped her new in-laws create another intricate web of lies as a cover up. I hated that I thought of my own flesh and blood that way, but I did.

"If she knew about this…I don't think I could forgive her," I finally admitted. Saying the words out loud sounded harsh and final but they were a true reflection of my feelings. I'd been hurt enough and I wasn't about to let it go any further.

"I'm not sure I'd want you to," Peeta sighed. He looked at me with a woeful look that made his eyes look so sad and vulnerable, practically a mirror of my own.

"Do you think…-"

"I'm not sure what I think anymore," Peeta said. "I never thought they would stoop low enough to put someone - especially his girlfriend's father – in that dangerous of a job. I'm not sure why you'd put anyone in that dangerous of a job, to be quite honest. I mean…I've worried about what would happen if I accidently killed someone. It's like a sick thought that everyone has; what if you were driving and hit a pedestrian? What if one of the ovens at work randomly malfunctioned and exploded? I mean everyone thinks like that. Even thinking that I could accidently kill someone makes me sick. How can Gale live with knowing he killed someone, accident or not? The guilt would drive you crazy."

"He tried to get me to take my ring back one night," I blurted out suddenly. I looked at Peeta with an apologetic gaze. He gave me a shocked and reproachful look and I knew I would have told him. We were on shaky enough ground though – telling him something like that would have only made the rift between us worse at the time.

"I should have told you, but….I didn't want to worry you," I said. "I'm sorry. I just….he did one night. I didn't take him seriously. But he wanted to get back together with me. He had no problems being with me and lying about it. He wanted to spend the rest of his life lying to me," I realized. "He's capable of anything Peeta."

Glancing over, I watched Peeta's jaw clench. The muscular shape of his square bones rolled as his teeth clenched in anger. He inhaled sharply through his nose and jiggled his leg against the arm of the chair.

"I hope he fries," he muttered, shaking his head.

"Are you angry?"

"No," he sighed. "I mean yeah, I want to twist Gale's neck shut but then I'll be in the cell next to him when this is all over. It won't get us anywhere to be angry. We have to be smart about this. I just want to catch him now more than ever."

I nodded, watching as the detective we were working with exited his office. A stout, older man with a beard that had more grey hairs than brown, he shuffled over to us with a strangely trusting expression for someone who was a detective. Peeta and I glanced at each other as we stood to shake his hand.

"Detective Heavensbee. I spoke with Officer Flavius about your case. I must say most interesting thing I've seen in a few years."

I scratched my head nervously and frowned. "Um, thanks? I really just want to get my mother out of there and make sure she's alright."

"I understand," he nodded. "You must be the husband?"

"P-Peeta," he stuttered, giving him a curt nod. "So….what do you think we should do next?"

"Nothing," he answered confidently. "Sit back and let us do our work. I was told your sister was out of the country?"

"Honeymooning, yes," I answered. How would this look to Prim? What if she was involved? Could I stand to see my little sister punished?"

He seemed to sense my hesitation. "I assure you Mrs. Mellark; we'll do a full-scale investigation after an initial visit. If things look at all out of place that will give me and my men what we need to move in and thoroughly question everyone involved."

"I'm just…worried about my sister," I admitted. "Can I….I mean can I say something? Off the record?"

His lips twitched and his beady eyes squinted as he smiled. "Sure."

"I'm not sure how involved she was. I mean…we grew up with nothing and the Hawthornes offered my sister a lot of things she's never had before and…."

"You think he bribed her to be quiet?"

"I'm not sure," I answered honestly. "I don't think she's capable of the same things they are, but….The past few years have been difficult. I wasn't around much. I don't know how deep their ties are to her."

Detective Heavensbee nodded. "You might be surprised. But again," he paused, "You might also be surprised how much they kept from her. We have no way to tell so early. The best thing to do is to go home and not breathe a word of this to anyone. We'll go over first thing in the morning and let them know they might be under investigation. The most you can do is be available for questioning and not let the family get wind of this."

"Do you think they would arrange a cover up?" Peeta asked. "I mean…they seem like they're capable of that."

He shrugged. "No way to tell yet. But if you haven't spoken to your sister, don't. When family is involved things get messier. Ties run deep," he sighed, crossing his arms. His yellowed, slightly crooked teeth bit at the end of the pencil in his hand as his small eyes darted between the two of us. "Just sit back and let us do our work. I'll get in touch the second I know anything or if I need any information. Can you do that?"

We both nodded. Detective Heavensbee shook our hands before letting us go home. Peeta and I were both silent on the drive home to our apartment, both of us silently mulling over what had been said. As angry as I was that Prim could possibly be involved, it felt like a monumental betrayal to have her come home in the middle of all this. What if she was innocent as Heavenbee had suggested? What if she didn't know about any of it, honestly?

Peeta put the truck in park when we reached our building, his gloved hand covering mine. "This will all work out," he said quietly. "We just have to let them do what they can to expose them."

I turned to him in the darkness. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing? Putting them on trial? Launching an investigation?"

Peeta licked his lips and stared forward. "At first I wanted to see them all fry for what they did to you. Then….because I'm a sucker I felt bad for a while. Then I thought about that time your dad came and bought a sandwich from me. He had this life to his eyes when he smiled at me that one time that I'll never forget. I mean, all it took was seeing one picture of him to remember who he was and that was years ago. But I do remember him," Peeta sighed. He looked over at me. "When I think about all the things he's going to miss in our lives just because of one greedy family, then it all seems like the right thing to do. I want to see you smile like that again."

I nodded. "Thank you. For being so great about this. These past few months…."

"I know," he chuckled, shaking his head. "But we'll get through it. We'll get justice for your father and we'll get your mother back and…and hopefully everything will someday, somehow…be okay again."

I turned his hand over in my own and squeezed it. "I really want everything to be okay again too."

Buttercup leaned forward, bumping his stubby nose against my arm. I wrinkled my nose right back at him, mimicking his look as he gave me an amused little grunt, jumping down from the windowsill. His breath smelled like he'd eaten something rotten and fishy as he turned on the mesh metal of the fire escape, effectively shoving his back end at me. I rolled my eyes and watched as he wove himself around my leg a few times, inviting me to pet him. I was sitting on the windowsill, one leg on the fire escape outside our lofted bedroom and one leg still in the room, enjoying the mild winter day. We'd somehow made it through the first week of the New Year, but New Year's Eve still seemed fresh in my mind. It had been four days since we'd talked to Detective Heavensbee, and we'd followed his advice to a T- I hadn't contacted Prim or anyone from the Hawthorne house since then.

Waiting was the worst part.

I stared out at the alley below as the morning sun crept through the buildings. I needed to go back to work. I needed to face life and reality and move on with things, but it was so strange. I'd wanted my memories back for so long, but now that I had them….it wasn't always nice. I remembered more about Gale and our relationship and where it went wrong, his family, the accident, the funeral…it was all too much.

Not to mention the guilt.

The guilt gnawed at me in the night, keeping me up in the darkness with an unrelenting assault on my mind. As Peeta slept soundly beside me, his gentle snores became the background sounds as my brain tormented me again and again with memories I'd been without for months.

I suddenly didn't want it back – any of it.

My self-pitying state was interrupted as the front door slammed and Peeta's heavy footsteps could be heard downstairs.

"I'm back! Brought breakfast," he announced. It was a Sunday and he'd taken the day off, opting to spend a lazy morning with me at home before we vowed to finally take down our Christmas tree.

"Alright, I'm closing the window," I sighed, lifting my leg off the sill. I pulled my lumpy sweater tighter around my body as the chill set in, nodding with my head at the cat. "In or out?"

He sailed through the window in a clumsy orange blur as I straightened up and pulled it shut. Walking into the bathroom, I splashed some cold water and my face and stared at myself in the mirror. "Pull it together Katniss," I muttered. I'd been a sloppy mess at work all week, and I owed Haymitch about half of my paycheck for breaking so many glasses and accidently dropping a pricy bottle of scotch while we did inventory. I needed to get over Gale, get over Prim's marriage, and move on. I would deal with my sister when she got back from her honeymoon; hopefully the two of us could figure something out that would make us both happy.

I was making my way down the stairs to the kitchen when there was another knock on the door. Figuring it was Rue or Thresh or another employee that needed Peeta's help with something, I paid no mind and began digging into the fresh assortment of bagels he'd brought up from downstairs. Peeta shuffled over to the door and let it swing open.

I looked up when I heard him kind of choke.

"Uh…" he coughed, making me look up. He stepped aside and swung the door open further, revealing Prim.

I felt my eyebrows shoot up on my forehead as I dropped my bagel back into the bag. "Prim?"

My sister stood on the doorstep, her blonde hair hanging in greasy strings around her face. She looked like a pale, homeless waif compared to the brightly shining star she was the weekend before at her wedding. I walked around the kitchen island and eyed her as she stood in the doorway.

"Um….hi," she said meekly, twisting her mouth. She looked anxiously at the floor as I gave Peeta a shocked look and mouthed what is she doing here?

He returned my wide eyed look. I don't know! He mouthed back. "Uh…do you want to come in?"

She looked up, tucking her hair behind her ears and giving him a tiny nod. She kicked a duffel over the threshold with her foot, dropping a stuffed backpack on top of it. Once inside, she looked at me expectantly.

"Uh…" I started, "Are you supposed to be somewhere….tropical? By now?"

She shook her head but offered no explanation. The silence was odd – Prim usually filled awkward silences with her chatter. Awkward silences were my thing. Peeta shifted miserably between us, his eyes darting around as he debated what to do. "Um…Prim, have you had breakfast?"

"No," she sighed. "I would like that, though."

I watched as Peeta nodded, ushering her over to the island. Prim flopped down and immediately dug into the bagels, biting into one without even looking. She chewed ravenously and as though she hadn't eaten a morsel in days. He offered her some juice that she gulped down immediately.

"Alright," I finally sighed. "What are you doing here?"

Prim's eyes met mine as she froze mid-chew. "I….I'm sorry," she sighed, swallowing. "I didn't mean to just show up here but…I didn't know where else to go."

I crossed my arms. "Explain."

"Katniss," Peeta chided, giving me a pointed look. He turned to Prim with gentle eyes. "Prim, we're wondering why you're here and not….on your honeymoon with Rory."

Prim sat back against the back of the chair, tucking her dirty hair behind her ears as she refused to meet our eyes. "I didn't go on my honeymoon."

My stomach felt like it leapt into my throat. "Um, what?"

"I didn't go," she repeated firmly. "I couldn't. Not after what happened."

"You mean…at the wedding?" Peeta gently prodded. He walked over to where she sat and rested his elbows on the counter as I sat there in mute shock, Prim between us. She held onto her silence for another few awkward minutes until a big tear rolled down her cheek. It fell soundlessly into her lap, making her choke on the air in her lungs. Peeta placed a hand on her back and looked at my bewildered face for help. "Prim…"

"I couldn't go," she sniffed, dropping her face into her hands. "Not after what they did to dad."

I met Peeta's eyes over Prim's slumped form. "Wait, Prim….you mean you didn't know?"

She sputtered and lifted her head. "Of course I didn't know! I didn't know….and anytime I asked I would get berated," she sniffed. "I never knew for sure but I just….I suspected and I am an awful person Katniss…I didn't say a thing. Not a word," she sobbed.

"Prim…what do you mean?"

My sister lifted her head miserably and wiped her eyes. "I….I asked Rory once about…about dad's death and he….he accused me of wanting to rub the accident into his family's good name. He said I…I was threatening their business. He got so…so…" she burst into a fresh set of tears as I looked away.

So she didn't know for sure. A wave of relief flooded over me as I realized that not even theatrical Prim was this good of an actress. Her fear and trepidation in that moment couldn't have been a lie. I swallowed the hard lump in my throat and tried to stay calm. The idea of that vile woman threatening my little sister set off a protective fire in my gut that I couldn't quell.

"Prim, why didn't you say anything?"

"Be real, Katniss," she cried. "I would have been put out on the street and Hazelle would have gotten even. She always does," she sniffed. "When I asked her about dad's death she freaked out that I was tarnishing everything they stood for and I was ungrateful. She told me she would sue me for slander if I ever suggested such a horrible thing," Prim moaned. "What was I supposed to do? Rory had me so convinced that his family was just the subject of a lot of envy and hate because of their fortune. Which they were, but…."

Prim rambled through her tears as Peeta and I stared at each other over her head, still completely stunned as she let her words go.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that he would never do such a thing that his family….that they loved me. He told me we were meant to be together and dad's death was an accident," she hiccupped. "He told me that dad would want me to be with him; dad would have wanted him to take care of me."

I closed my eyes and nearly bit through my own tongue. How dare Rory tell her what my father would have wanted!

My father would have wanted to be alive. He would have wanted to see me grow up, to see Prim become a woman, to keep my mother sane.

He would have wanted to see me get married, and Prim as well.

He would have wanted to live and become a grandfather and grow old with his true love and have a life.

But he wasn't.

He had died in a risky mine explosion that my former fiancé had willingly risked his life for. I opened my eyes and lifted my hand to Prim's shoulder. I brushed a piece of hair away from her face. "It's all being taken care of," I murmured.

She looked up at me with a teary gaze. "No one can ever know, Katniss," she whispered fearfully. "I hope the people at the wedding just think that you were crazy or drunk or…or…."

"Prim," I argued, "No. People need to know what they did. They need to know that this happened and that it was their fault."

"Katniss," she whimpered, reaching to squeeze my hand. "They'll bury us."

Once we finally calmed Prim down, Peeta slipped off to the bakery to get the schedules completed and to pay the bills. He made us a teapot of peppermint tea before giving me a worried look and heading downstairs. I sat with Prim on the sofa as we wrapped up in blankets and sipped our drinks.

"Our flight got cancelled," she started out of nowhere. Her blank eyes stared forward at the unlit Christmas tree in the corner. "So we got a hotel room by the airport. We started talking about the wedding and I….I asked him about what you'd said."

"And?" I prodded. "Did the fucker get nervous?"

"Yes," she answered quickly, breaking her stare. Her blue eyes focused on mine. "He did. He….Rory is usually so calm and…he started screaming at me to mind my own business and to stop pressing it and I told him yes it was my business….he lost it. We were just yelling at each other and freaking out and I told him I didn't believe him. He….he told me it was done."

"Wait, what?"

She nodded. "He told me he couldn't be married to a liar. Funny, I wasn't the actual liar in the relationship. He told me we were going to get the marriage annulled and he was going to take everything I had. He said I was an awful person for not trusting my own husband and his family and…" she trailed off, sipping her tea.

"Then what?"

She shrugged, averting her eyes. "He freaked. I started to pack after we were done screaming at each other and he left and went down to the hotel bar and….when he came back he had changed his mind. He told me he didn't want to end it."

"Do you think he talked to Hazelle?"

I watched her nod slowly. "I think so. I guess they figured it was better to keep me around to make sure I stayed quiet. But I dunno, I just….I thought about everything you'd said on the balcony that night of the wedding and it all suddenly made sense like it never had before. Things just started coming together and before long I knew I couldn't deny the truth anymore. I told him it was over."

"Good," I grumbled, sipping my tea. The warm, peppermint flavor slid easily down my throat and soothed my frazzled nerves. Prim shifted uneasily on the other end of the couch as she tucked her legs up underneath her body.

"I'm just nervous."

"About what?"

"What he'll do to me. I mean….after I broke it off I left. I took some of my stuff and went to another hotel. I stayed there for….I guess a few days. It was awhile. I just thought about everything and really let it all sink in that I'd willingly married into that family. And for what?" she asked. "I felt stupid for letting pretty clothes and shiny things distract me from asking questions for so long, Katniss. I felt horrible. It all came crashing down on me and I felt…."

"It's like suffocating," I heard myself murmur. "I felt the same way."

Prim sighed. "I couldn't handle it. Everything about me suddenly made me sick. I didn't want any of it and I realized I give it all back and then some just to hear dad laugh again. But they took that away from me and….and I could never willingly step foot into that house again."

I leaned back against the couch. "Good for you."

Prim was quiet a moment as she looked down at her cup. "For what it's worth….I'm sorry."

"That's worth a lot," I shrugged. "I mean, who wants to believe that the person they love….is responsible for killing another person they love? It's a fucked up deal no matter how you look at it. And it's not our fault," I repeated.

"What are we going to do?" she whispered, a fresh tear falling down her pale cheek. "I have nowhere to go, no money, nothing. I didn't even finish my first semester of college, Katniss. Rory cancelled all of my credit cards, even my phone! The only reason I finally crawled out of that god forsaken hotel was because the maids finally kicked me out. I don't even know what do to next."

"You'll stay here," I sighed. "It's not much, but at least it's something. And you won't have to go back there. You can stay here, Prim."

She opened her mouth to say something when the front door suddenly flew open. It cracked against the opposite wall as Peeta hurried over the threshold still in his apron with a pencil behind his ear.

"What the-"

"Turn on the TV!" he yelled. "Turn it on, hurry!"

Prim tensed as I scrambled over her to grab the remote. I fumbled with it a second as heavily breathing Peeta sat down in between us.

"Turn it to nineteen…there…."

His words ceased at the local news began playing. It was all a jumble of voices and pictures until I was able to calm down and focus.

There, on the screen, was Gale and his father being led out of their house and into cop cars as the media swarmed around. At the last second, the cameras dipped low enough to catch the glint of handcuffs around their wrists.


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42: Where the Heart Belongs

"Sometimes…I don't know. He just gives me this look like…like I'm going to disappear. Is that crazy? Maybe it is. I mean, how can I accuse him of being crazy when I'm afraid of it myself?"

My question seemed to hang in the air. Cinna's face remained open and stoic, the only movement occurring as he blinked his masculine yet pretty eyes. The afternoon sunlight streaming through the window seemed to catch the flecks of gold in the warm brown hues as he listened to me speak. He was quiet a moment, clearly mulling my question over as I sat in his office, twisting my hands in my lap.

"Do you feel like you're going to disappear?"

My eyes fell to my hands. "Sometimes."

The clock ticking on the wall seemed to echo in my mind as I stared back down at my hands and waited for him to speak. In the flurry that was the last week so much had happened that I'd almost missed my appointment with Cinna. I'd called him a few days before, after I'd snapped out of my self-pitying mode to tell him the good news and we'd booked a new set of x-rays.

I was his last appointment of the day and my quick visit had become an hour long therapy session in his office. Now that Prim was staying with us and the investigation had begun on the Hawthornes, our lives were back in a tailspin. The chaos that surrounded New Year's had just been slowing down when my unaware, recently abandoned sister had showed up on our doorstep. Between keeping a close watch on the investigation and helping her finalize the annulment of her marriage, I'd barely had time to let Peeta welcome the old me home. Of course to add to the pain of that was also the realization Peeta had been as patient and giving as ever, happily allowing Prim to sleep in the upstairs lofted bedroom with me until she felt safer. The poor girl was convinced now that the investigation was on and Galel and his father had posted bail that there was a hit man lurking behind every corner. They'll take us out, Katniss, she'd cried to me. They'll kill us before letting us talk.

While I certainly wouldn't put anything past Gale's family at this point, I was sure every member of that family was under lock and key for the moment. One false move and they would be toast; Detective Heavensbee had promised Prim she was safe as could be, but my sister was not convinced. So, she'd slept in our bed with me while Peeta had graciously taken the couch, sleeping with a baseball bat to make Prim feel better.

I missed him, and it was clear from the longing glances he missed me too. But with everything in such a flurry around us, what could we do about it?

I'd yet to let my husband welcome me home the proper way.

The old me, (pre accident) and the new me (post-accident) were still clumsily winding together, trying to determine who I even was anymore. I'd woken up without knowing who I'd been for the past few years before slowly easing back into this new life. Then I'd snapped out of it one instant and everyone just expected everything to be back to normal.

But it wasn't normal.

And while I was trying to figure my shit out, poor Peeta was patiently waiting in the wings for me to have a spare second to spend with him where my sister wasn't clinging to my side. I'd been in a fog after the wedding and she had shown up what felt like hours after I'd snapped out of it, leaving no time for him to welcome me back from my mental vacation.

Not that I was sure he wanted it.

He just gave me these looks. These sad, tortured, scared looks. Like he was afraid I was going to wake up someday about be yet another version of myself he had to win over. He looked exhausted from these past few months it was no mystery as to why.

"He looks at me like he's afraid. Like he's not sure how long…or what version of me it will be."

Cinna nodded. "That's understandable. You have to give yourselves time to grow back together."

I frowned. "But I'm me again. I shouldn't feel this way. I shouldn't feel like I need to get back to myself because I am myself. I…"

"You expect it to be much easier," Cinna guessed.

I nodded slowly. "I guess I didn't think we'd have to grow back together because we'd just be us again. There wouldn't be any need for it. And now…everything has changed so much and it's frustrating to watch. Instead of growing together I feel like we're grown apart. Like there's…I feel like there's this gap between us and we haven't…" I stopped, my eyes flicking down to the carpet of his office. Cinna was a head doctor; he didn't really need to be filled in on my sex life.

He licked his lips and shrugged, getting the jest of what I was saying. "That's not uncommon. It will happen. Peeta is a patient person."

I looked up at Cinna in surprise, and he gave me a look.

"I spent a lot of time while you were unconscious talking to your very worried husband. I'm a good judge of character. Which is why I know you'll both be fine. You grew back together once and it didn't take that long. Just try to keep your head on straight while the investigation is going on. Prim needs you."

"Yes, but so does Peeta."

Cinna narrowed his understanding eyes. "Exactly. I think you know what you need to do."

And I did.

After talking to Cinna, I'd raced back to the bakery and straight to the back. Rue gave me a confused glance but simply smirked as I playfully swatted her shoulder as I brushed past on my way back to the kitchen. Peeta looked up in surprise as I flew to his side where he was finishing up a tray of fruit tarts. He'd just popped a piece of kiwi in his mouth when I skidded to a halt at his side and grabbed his face. I kissed him deeply, my tongue swiping eagerly against his sugary lips to taste the fruit he'd just consumed. His blue eyes dilated quickly as he licked his mouth and glanced at the door I'd just flown through.

"M-Most customers just wait at the counter and ring the bell," he replied a bit breathlessly.

I grinned. "You're taking me out tonight."

He gave a happy little laugh. "Okay."

"In the bread truck."

He shook his head in agreement as we thought of the same memory – that first time in the bread truck – and his eyes grew a little darker. "Okay."

I beamed wider and reached up to ruffle his messy blond curls before turning on my heels and leaving the way I'd come.

Peeta and I had a date.

Prim slid my cell phone back across the kitchen counter with a defeated huff. She yanked her ponytail holder out of her blonde hair only to twist it back up in an identical knot ten seconds later. I looked up from my makeup mirror (and my losing battle with eyeliner) and frowned.

"Not good?"

"No," she sighed.

The day before we'd started the official annulment process on Prim's marriage to Rory. Peeta had graciously offered up a chunk of our savings to help her get a passable lawyer to help her wade through anything tricky that Rory sent her way, but there still wasn't much hope of my sister coming out on top. I knew this would be messy, but I had no idea.

"My lawyer is a witch," she whined, watching as I picked up the coal colored pencil again.

"She's your divorce lawyer. Shouldn't that be a requirement of her?" I asked.

"I guess you're right. But she met with Rory's lawyers today," she sighed, emphasizing the 's' on lawyers and gave me a pitiful look. "The prenup I signed is iron clad and there's no getting around it. When he said I wouldn't be getting a cent he was right."

"Prim, you were married for what? A few days? Just be glad that's all it lasted," I reminded her. "Did you honestly think he wouldn't cut you off the second his brother and father got put in custody? He's pissed. We knew that."

"I know. It's just hard. He insisted I didn't work or even finish school so…what am I supposed to do?"

I shrugged, not really in the mood to deal with Prim's complaints today. While I loved my sister and wanted to support her so she wouldn't have to result to drastic measures, I missed my husband and was craving a night that was finally just about us. I wanted to reassure Peeta that I was back for real and for good and that I appreciated everything he'd done before and after my accident.

I wanted to make sure his gorgeous blue eyes never looked at me with a sad uncertainty ever again.

"Do what everyone else does. Get a job. Work for a living. Come on Prim, you're capable. You can do this without him."

She nodded. "I need someone like Peeta."

I snorted, shaking my head. "No, you don't. You need to be you for a while and forget about Rory. You need to flourish on your own instead of depending on a man to swoop in and save you. Focus on you for a while."

"I guess you're right."

I gave her a smile over the little mirror. "I'm your big sister. Of course I'm right," I chuckled. She leaned on her elbows and critiqued my makeup application skills as I prepared for my date with Peeta. I still had a good hour until he got home from work, but I couldn't help myself – I was excited to finally be alone with him. Tonight was about reassurance and bonding.

And celebrating that we were left standing after the whirlwind that had been the past couple of months.

My cell phone buzzed against the countertop, jarring us both. "It's for you," I muttered, seeing the name 'Alma Coin' flashing across the screen.

Prim groaned and picked it up. "Hello," she stated glumly. I waited as she listened to whatever her lawyer was saying – her face suddenly had an unreadable look.

"He…he did?"

"What? He did what?" I prodded in a hushed whisper.

She shook her head, covering the mouthpiece. "Rory…put a hold on the annulment. He wants to meet-"

"Yes, I'm still here. Um…no, I know. I realize that…yes….ok. But no, I…I don't."

She hung up with a pale face, shaking her head as I gave her an impatient look. "Well?"

"He wanted to put a hold on the annulment. He wanted to meet to work it out. Therapy, she said."

"No," I stated firmly. "He wants to get his hooks in you again so that it won't look so bad against his family in court. If you're still married to him, Gale and his dad will look like this was all just an unfortunate accident, not a greedy, calculated scheme!"

Prim shot me a snarky look. "I'm not dumb, Katniss. You think I don't realize that? I told her no…obviously."

"Good for you," I reassured her. We sat in peaceful silence for a few more moments, Prim wrinkling her nose each time I tried to put on makeup the 'wrong' way. Buttercup leapt onto kitchen island beside us, affectionately bumping Prim's head with his smushed orange nose.

"My cat likes you better than it likes me," I muttered, swiping on some clear lip gloss. Prim smirked and scratched behind his ears, making the mangy orange cat close his eyes and start to purr.

"That's because I'm nice to him."

I rolled my eyes and was about to retort with something smart when there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," Prim offered. "Peeta must have left his key downstairs."

I turned back to the mirror to finish primping for my date with Peeta when I heard the door open and Prim gasp.

"You are not supposed to be here," she hissed. "What do you want?"

I whirled around and hopped off my barstool as I realized who was at our door. Rory Hawthorne stood tall and proud over the threshold, his square jaw set and his eyes hard. That is, until he saw me.

"Get the fuck out," I snarled in my best big sister voice. I was in no mood. "Out. Get the fuck out."

He held up his hand, dangerously close to my face as he smugly warned me. "I'm here to talk to Prim, Katniss."

I smacked it out of my face like a fly and put myself between the two of them. "I wasn't asking, I was telling."

"Katniss-"

"Prim, shut up. Rory, if you don't think for once second that the cops are watching your every move then you're as dense as your brother. Get out of my house and don't you dare to try to talk to my sister ever again. You hear me you piece of shit? You stay away from my family."

Rory wasn't amused. "I'm here to talk to my wife."

"Soon to be ex," I snapped. Prim looked like a caged animal as she backed away from the door. "Did you hear me Hawthorne? I said out."

"Listen Katniss, this isn't your fight. Back down, alright? I'm here to talk to Prim. Just settle the fuck down and let me talk to her-"

He tried to push past me, making Prim cry out in surprise. I gasped in rage and heard myself hiss angrily as I grabbed his jacket and pushed him backwards. "I said out! Leave us alone!"

Rory backed away, his gray eyes bright with a challenge. If the Hawthorne family had one thing all in common, it was the need to win. He wasn't going to back down without a fight; I could tell.

"Wish your sister was this feisty sometimes," he shot back at me with a sneer.

I was about to haul off and slap him, battery charges be damned, when I heard footsteps coming up from the bakery. Peeta appeared behind Rory with a bewildered look

"What's all this?" he asked, roughly pushing past Rory. I frowned as I realized how easy it was for someone Peeta's size to manhandle Rory the way he deserved when my pitiful slaps and pushes had barely made him flinch. Peeta wasn't as tall, but I realized with a proud swell that my husband's muscle and stocky body dwarfed Rory and made him resemble a string bean. Peeta placed himself between the two of us and Rory, crossing his arms as he stared down Gale's little brother. I watched his jaw clench and unclench in distaste.

"You want to tell me what you're doing in my house, Hawthorne?"

Rory's lip curled as Peeta spoke. "I'm here to talk to my wife. Straighten her out. The cops are all over me and I want to know what the little bitch is saying."

"The truth, actually," Peeta stated simply. "She's telling the police the truth and cooperating, which would be in your best interest to do. Now leave."

"Fuck you-"

"I said leave or I'm calling the detective and the cops right now. This won't look good on you Rory and you know it. You can yell and snarl and tell me to fuck off all you want, but if you touch my sister in law I will make you sorry," Peeta explained calmly. I bit my lip nervously, hoping to God Rory decided to get mouthy. That would be the ass kicking of the century.

Rory stared at Peeta square in the eye; a rumble of distaste sounding in is chest as he gave Prim one last glowering glance before he turned around. At the last second, he whirled back around, leading with his first in the direction of Peeta's jaw. I heard Prim scream as Peeta ducked just in time, answering back with a flour-covered fist right to Rory's nose. The sickening crack sounded in the open space of our apartment and I gasped as Rory reeled back in pain.

"You dick!" he cried, cradling his already bleeding face. "You broke my fucking nose!"

Peeta held his fist in his hand, staring him down as Prim raced to my side. "Yes, I did. I told you to leave. Now leave. Do I need to tell you again?"

Rory shot him a dark look but didn't protest.

"Go," Peeta insisted. "Go home, and never come back. Never talk to Prim, never look at Prim, and never touch her ever again. Never. I mean it," he said firmly, his deep voice quiet. Rory cradled his face as he backed over the threshold and darted down the steps. We heard the door at the bottom of the steps slam, the noise making the walls shake.

Peeta turned back around in time for Prim to rush to him, throwing her arms around his neck. I met his gaze over her shoulder and watched her hug him.

"Thank you," I mouthed.

Peeta just gave me a gentle smile.

Peeta watched as I took another long sip of wine, shaking his head at me as a he speared a good sized meatball and popped it in his mouth.

"What?"

"Nothing, I…I love when you drink wine," he murmured, taking a sip of his own.

"Why's that?" I countered back, leaning forward. I felt my leg brush his under the table and the heat from it was just slightly maddening.

"You get handsy," he admitted playfully, chewing his bottom lip.

I nodded sheepishly. "About that…um…thank you for coming out with me tonight."

Peeta raised an eyebrow and I could tell he was thinking about my sudden arrival in the bakery that afternoon. "Did I have a choice, or…?"

"No," I admitted. "But I'm glad we're here. Does your hand hurt?"

Peeta held up his bruised knuckles, wincing a little as he touched them with his free hand. "A little, but at least I can say I finally learned something from almost two decades of getting my ass handed to me by my brothers. I guess I can happily report that I successfully learned how to dodge a punch and deliver one."

I snorted. "I thought you broke his face."

"So did I," he winced playfully, shaking his head. "He knew it would look bad on him if I called the cops, that's all. That's why he left," he insisted modestly.

"Whatever," I laughed. "He didn't want to stick around for round two."

"Think Prim is alright?"

"She's fine," I assured him. "Rory is stupid but harmless. I doubt anyone in that family would have such little sense they would show up at our apartment. Did you see his face? As soon as you mentioned the police is when he got desperate. He knows that if the cops are called to our house that will look bad on all of them, and I know Hazelle at least told him that much. Rory isn't smart, but I'm sure he knows to stay away. Besides…he's probably still trying to realign his nose," I snorted, taking another long sip of my wine.

We'd left a very anxious Prim back at the apartment. It wasn't my number one choice to leave her alone at night, but Peeta swore up and down she would be fine for a few hours while we grabbed some dinner and had a space of time to ourselves.

"I was surprised you'd leave her," he admitted, spearing another clump of pasta. "I feel like we haven't been alone since you….well, since you're you again."

I sighed, wrinkling my nose as I twisted my napkin in my lap. "I know…and I'm sorry for that. Peeta, you've been wonderful for all of this and I'm sorry I was such a mindfuck these past few days. It was all just…a lot. It all happened so fast and I just…it all unraveled. You've been so patient."

He smirked. "Quit apologizing. You're back, you're you….but you still like…remember everything after the accident, right?"

I nodded. "I do. I remember how great you were when I woke up and didn't know you."

Peeta looked down at his lap. "That was torture. I thought I'd never recover if I didn't get you back. When you went with him it…I…it almost broke me Katniss. I was afraid you'd fall for him again and leave me alone and never…."

I stared at him as he admitted his deepest fears without hesitation. That was so Peeta; to admit everything he was afraid of without shame or fear of not looking like a man. He wasn't afraid to bear himself to me so easily – that was one thing that I hoped never changed about my husband. I was the opposite, of course; divulging my fears and things that made me weak was unthinkable in my mind, yet he didn't think twice about pouring his heart out to me.

My heart broke all over again.

His voice hitched slightly as he shook his head. "Watching you leave that hospital with him…knowing what could happen. It felt like it did the first time. Like I was on the outside, just watching you with him. You seemed so untouchable all the sudden and…it paralyzed me Katniss. I didn't even know how to put one foot in front of the other or just breathe," he admitted.

"I'll never leave you again," I assured him, slipping my hand across the table. His calloused fingers gripped mine, steadily increasing their pressure as he clutched my hand like a frightened child.

He gave me a weak smile. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't seriously worry you would never come back from that house. If he won you over once, I…I thought he could do it again. I wasn't sure what that 'new' you was like and that terrified me."

"Luckily he was the same way he was the first time and I saw right through it. Even…even when I didn't know exactly who you are I was still drawn to you. I felt this pull to you that…now I get, because I love you. I was so drawn to you because that was my body's way of telling me we belong together, but then it…it frightened me. I remember being so unsure…and it only took a few days for me to figure out that I belonged back with you."

He shook his head and stared down at his food. "I wasn't myself without you. I think I spent every minute wishing you would come back to me. I couldn't even focus…"

I squeezed his hand in mine. "I'm so sorry, Peeta. I can't say that enough….words don't seem like they're enough all the sudden and that's….scary."

He nodded once, his eyes flicking back up to mine. "I know how you feel. I mean…I felt like nothing I could say to you would convince you to go back to him. Well, anything that wouldn't make me sound crazy."

I watched him closely, remembering how he'd suspected Gale all along but had refused to use that information to win me back. I was struck with the weight of that decision all over again. Even desperate and barely surviving, he'd refused to let his pain change who he was.

"You could have told me. You could have come to me and told me you thought he killed my father. But you didn't."

"No," he shook his head. "I wanted to. I'm not completely noble in my actions, but….I knew I couldn't do that. That wouldn't be fair. I wasn't going to use your pain to get something that would benefit me. I wasn't going to manipulate you Katniss. He'd done that to you before and I didn't want one ounce of what we have to be like that. I didn't want to be like him."

"You aren't. That's how I know you're where I belong. It just took me some time, and I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry about those days I was there…I think about that every day Peeta. I'll never be sorry enough. I should have called you sooner. I should have never even gone," I sighed I defeat.

A slow, sure smile spread over his lips. "I know. I was...that was the best phone call I've ever gotten. I hope you realize that," he said, taking a sip of his wine.

"It was the best thing I ever did."

He shrugged. "Well, this time. The first time around the smartest thing you ever did was dump Gale and demand I take you out," he smirked. "But yeah, making that phone call for me to come get you was the best think you did the second time around."

I laughed and finished my wine. It was getting late, and I knew we needed to get home to Prim. "I'm sorry Prim is…around. I mean…I'm glad she's here and not with them, but I'm sorry we can't…"

Peeta nodded. "Being quiet was never our strong suit, and our apartment isn't really set up for privacy. I get it, Katniss, it's alright."

His fingers tightened around mine, the warmth seeping through his skin and running like an electric current up my veins. I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry as I felt my body start to tingle and tighten like a coil ready to spring.

"Check please."

My heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I sat in the shotgun seat of the Mellark Bakery delivery van. The sputtering heater was struggling in the January temperature and the cracked vinyl seat was hurting my ass, but I barely noticed. All I could see was him.

I stared at Peeta's magnificent profile as he drove the short six blocks back to our apartment, licking my lips. We'd barely made it out of the restaurant with straight faces after the lust between the two of us had finally gotten to an overwhelming point. Peeta slammed some cash down on the bistro's table before holding his coat across his crotch just long enough to get to the van. He threw the rickety old van into park and killed the engine.

It was just us.

Finally, it was just us.

It felt like our first date all over again, I thought. My chest grew warm as I realized I could really remember our first date now; the jitters, the overwhelming certainty that I belonged with Peeta, but not wanting to freak him out and say it. The way his skin smelled like cinnamon and his hair had been freshly cut. The way his lips felt against mine for the first time.

I could remember it.

"Good thing I wore a skirt, huh?"

Peeta groaned in appreciation, running his warm hands up my legging clad legs, his fingers pushing back the material of my skirt. He dipped his fingertips below the elastic waistband, welcoming my skin with his touch. He was quickly growing overwhelmed, but that was how I liked him.

"Do you want to…lie down in the back?" he asked breathlessly, his boyish face flushed.

I shook my head. "No…we're fine here."

Peeta gulped. "We could get caught."

I grinned and shook my head. "Such a boy scout. I know," I laughed. He joined along nervously, his hands settling on my hips as I rested my weight across his lap. He was still hard from the restaurant, his length smashed against his leg in his dark jeans. I shifted my weight against him, rising up to fumble with the button. Peeta hissed in relief as I roughly yanked his pants down, shimmying slightly so that I could get them down to his ankles. His pale skin seemed to glow in the low light as I looked down at him and smiled brightly. He mirrored my expression as I yanked my sweater over my head.

"I really hope no one sees," I laughed, tossing it onto the passenger seat. My fingers fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as he slid his hands back up my skirt to fumble with my leggings. The leggings and my shirt and bra were soon discarded onto the passenger seat, along with Peeta's button down shirt and his watch. We both made a moaning noise as our bare chests finally touched. I kissed him deeply, my tongue immediately seeking his out to taste him.

He still tasted like the bread from dinner.

I smiled and pulled away. Peeta's eyes roamed down my body in the dark van, his eyes drinking in my naked torso. Completely transfixed, he lifted his hands up to softly cover my skin with the palms of his hands.

"Do you remember that first night?" I asked.

He knew what I was talking about. "Yes. It was our first date and I wanted to stop and go slow…"

He paused as I reached down and softly ghosted my fingertips against his hard length that was nestled between our stomachs. His breath caught in his throat as I repeated the action a few more times, smiling as I felt him throb against me.

"…but you wouldn't have it. You told me to shut up and let things…just happen," he half wheezed, half chuckled. I nodded, watching the way he blinked as if it was all he could do to keep control of himself in that moment. The way I could make him so undone made a surge of wetness pool between my legs as I sat straddling his lap. Peeta looked around nervously; still worried someone was going to walk by the van in the middle of the dark, abandoned alley.

"Would you stop? You're so nervous. No one's going to see," I laughed, pulling his jaw gently so that his eyes were back on me. I let my fingers tease him again, running them up and down his length. That got his attention.

Peeta flexed his hips upwards, rubbing himself against my wetness as he pushed my skirt further up around my waist. I groaned in anticipation and smiled as I let my forehead drop down against his. I watched his eyes lower until he was looking down at my underwear. They were one of the two pairs of something black and frilly I owned and I had happily worn them for specifically this moment.

"Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. I captured his mouth in a slow, rough kiss, claiming his mouth with mine. Peeta growled and leaned back against the van's seat, answering with another roll of his hips. I could tell it was difficult for him to move very much in the tight van, but it was worth it. The thrill of getting caught, the foggy windows, the smell of bread, the memory of our first time lingering in the air….it was an aphrodisiac. How could I have forgotten this, I wondered?

Breaking away from his mouth, I glanced down to see his pale flesh protruding upwards in the dim light. I felt myself grin and catch myself imagining this is our first time all over again.

Peeta looked up at me with his boyish, fuck me look. "Feels like the first time," he practically purred his voice low and gravelly.

"You read my mind," I laughed softly. I rose up to tease him further, rubbing the silky material against him. I knew he could feel how wet I was, and I knew I was making him insane with need. Peeta growled again, the impatient noise letting me know he'd had enough teasing. Before I could offer to remove my underwear, he reached down and pulled it to the side. The feeling of his calloused fingers against my damp flesh made me cry out in pleasant surprise. I yelped a second time as he held the fabric to the side with one hand and pushed my hips down with the other. I sunk down with one swift movement, both of us gasping for breath as our bodies connected.

Peeta muttered something that sounded like a cross between an expletive and my name, and I could only make a high pitched wail. The walls of the van felt like they were closing in on us as I let my body adjust to his. Peeta met my gaze and gave me an opened mouthed look of approval as I sucked in a deep breath. Before I could full recover, he leaned forward, pressing my back against the steering wheel to attack my breasts with wet, open mouthed kisses. Every nerve in my body began to buzz excitedly as I gasped and keened for more.

"Oh fuck…Peeta, yes," I heard myself beg. Rolling his hips up, he silently urged me to start moving. The van was suddenly filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh and Peeta's wet mouth it worked on my chest and neck. Every once in a while I would interject with a nonsense noise of approval, but I was pretty much speechless as I tried to get my body to cooperate. Our last romp was the stressful but hot fuck in the bathroom at Prim's wedding; it felt like it had been eons but it also felt un-fucking-believable.

"I've missed you," I groaned, prying my eyes open. Peeta leaned his head back against the seat, his strong jaw clenched like iron as I moved against him. I couldn't remember ever feeling this incredibly full of him in a long time.

It was like his entire being was welcoming me home. I met his eyes and held his gaze, but the intensity between us was almost too much for him. It was a strain, but I could see his eyelids fluttering in response to my movements.

Up and down…back and forth. I circled my hips and mewled out loud as I fought to increase the friction between us.

"You feel…so good," I panted, slamming my hips against his. The seat of the van groaned in protest and the van was probably shaking with my rough thrusts, but I was sure we were past caring at that point. "So…much," I finished, unable to form coherent words.

"I know," he groaned, raising his hips. I gasped at the sudden change in angle, gripping his shoulders for dear life. His wide, perfect, muscular shoulders.

I felt my head fall forward to rest against his. "OH Peeta…" I groaned. "I missed this. I missed you, I love you," I babbled.

He seemed to understand as I leaned backwards. "I know baby, I know. Me too. But we're…uh…we're fine."

I let a relieved pant escape my chest as I rode him harder, our synched thrusts growing more and more intense by the moment. We moved together as one; one clumsy, passionate, welded, blissful pair.

"You're…you belong with me," he whispered throatily as I grabbed the back of the seat. The extra leverage made us both cry out in enjoyment. I could only nod as I leaned forward, changing the angle of our union again. His hot, pulsating member slid against my walls with a delicious friction I swore I'd never felt before. Maybe practice really did make perfect.

Our breaths were growing more and more ragged and needy as we moved together in rapid succession. I could feel the shocks of the old bread van protesting our movements, but I could give two shits. The most intense orgasm I'd ever felt was building in my abdomen as we completed this intimate, primal act.

I needed to claim him again, and I planned to do just that.

Everything we'd been through, everything we'd survived, and everything yet to come we could do together, I realized. I cradled his sweaty face in my hands as I realized I could do anything with this man. This kind, gentle, passionate man. He was where my heart belonged whether my mind knew it or not.

My walls were starting to ache with oversensitivity, but I didn't care. It was raw, unbridled passion as we moved together and I wasn't about to let it go because of a few aches. I slid my chest up his, our sweat mixing as I rode him towards my climax. My entire collection of limbs went stiff and jerked as I felt my insides turn to a mixture of fireworks and mush. Peeta picked up where I left off, too blissed out to finish. His hips slammed upwards into mine as my body seemed to rejoice. I felt him jerk with a few ragged gasps, his own release washing over him in a wave of bliss the mirrored the one I was feeling.

Our eyes met and we both broke into a slow smile. Our first time was good, but it was nothing like that.

I settled back onto his lap, his body still joined with mine. It felt like the world was spinning only seconds ago, a mishmash of emotions flying and our shouts echoing against the walls of the van. But for the moment, it's quiet. So easily, happily quiet. The steam hung in the air as the fogged up windows hid us from the outside world and the cold.

Opening my mouth to speak, I'm cut off by a loud cough just outside. I winced as I recognized the throaty noise.

"If the bread van's a rockin, don't come a knockin'," Haymitch muttered somewhere outside. I cringed and looked down at Peeta. Silent laughter rumbled through his chest as our eyes met.

"He totally heard us," I whispered in mortification.

"I know," Peeta chuckled, shaking his head.

Somehow though, none of that mattered.

I placed my hands on his cheeks and tilted his head up to look at me. "I missed you," I whispered.

Peeta blinked slowly, his eyes already growing misty. "I missed you too."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. But that's over now…you came back to me."

I mirrored his smile. "I'll always come back to you Peeta. You're where my heart belongs."

He swallowed hard, his blue eyes piercing in the dim light. "Stay with me?"

I nodded. "Always."

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite over - I have an Epilogue planned that will answer a lot of questions that I know many of you have. So don't go anywhere just yet - stay tuned for that! I also have the Peeta POVs to post - if you didn't get your preview last time, I apologize - I had iphone issues where my phone was deleting my messages in my actual email inbox, so I fear a few of you didn't get those. If you'd still like it, please let me know and I'll send it out.
> 
> Thank you to PhantomSerenity for Beta-ing! She agreed to help me with my next future project - so excited! Be sure to add me to your alerts so that you get it.
> 
> Remember to add me on Tumblr! TwilightCakesFanfiction. Come play and ask questions, I don't bite! : )
> 
> Thank you for reading and please review! And stay tuned for the Epi and Peeta POVs! : ) *MUAH*


	43. Chapter 43

Epilogue: Happy Endings

*Six Months Later*

I watched the colors shift and slowly brighten overhead, the evening sunset stretching out before me in a rainbow of color over the water. The bright sunlight bouncing off the clouds almost hurt my eyes, but I couldn't bring myself to tear my eyes away from such splendor. No two sunsets would ever be the same, and it seemed a waste not to watch it. The pallet of pinks, oranges, and purples blended together so effortlessly, the sun's fading rays twisting through the fluffy clouds to create a breathtaking scene over the lake. The smell of cattails wafted into my nose as the water lapped gently at the shoreline. I stood on the dock overlooking the wide lake, the straps of my shoes digging into the crook of my pointer finger as I held them next to me and watched my favorite part of the day take place. My toes dug into the worn wood, curling slightly as I blinked to break my stare.

A new noise joined the softly lapping water. His footsteps had always been somewhat heavy, but the torn ligaments in his knee had never really healed since that night. He walked with a slight limp and probably always would, but something told me he would wear it like a badge of honor. He'd gotten that limp on the night he'd saved me.

I knew that no matter what, he would always find a way to save me.

He paused behind me, clearing his throat. "They're getting ready to start, you know."

I turned and looked over my shoulder, a sly little smile forming on my lips as I took in the sight of him. He wore light grey pants and a matching vest, the white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. The little green flower pinned over his heart matched the flowers that were loosely woven into my braid. The light tones made his blue eyes sparkle and his golden head shone in the sunlight.

"I know."

Peeta gave me a knowing smirk. "Come on. The light is perfect and I know Annie will love it like this," he said, holding out his hand.

I twisted my mouth slightly before easily weaving my fingers with his and letting him lead me back up the dock. We made our way silently back up to the lawn, the quiet between us comfortable. After everything we'd been through, there was no need to fill the small gap of quiet bliss with needless words. Instead, Peeta merely squeezed my hand and gave me a little smile as we found our places on the grassy area overlooking the lake. I leaned into his side as we walked, his arm falling around my shoulders.

Being with him had always been easy; that part had never changed.

"You look beautiful," he sighed into my ear. I nudged him away with a laugh, not wanting to put on a show in front of the small crowd that was slowly settling into their places. His hand slipped out of mine as he took his place next to his best friend. They'd picked a beautiful spring day to be wed in one of the state parks overlooking a lake at sunset. A simple arch with white flowers woven into the wood had been constructed on a grassy area, the brilliant setting sun the only backdrop needed. The guests all took their seats in white folding chairs as the small, intimate wedding ceremony began. I took my place beside a beaming Annie beneath the white arch of flowers, the smell of gardenias and peonies invading my nose. Inhaling, I smiled as the quiet chatter of the guests was silenced as my two friends joined hands and the officiant began the ceremony.

As he began talking about love, commitment, family…my thoughts began to slowly play the last year backwards in my mind. A lot had changed, but I refused to think of it that way. Things were different now, but instead of just a new start it felt like a complete rebirth. We were slowly getting back to normal after the last few months, but it wasn't without at least one daily struggle or another.

The trial had been ugly. In a small community like ours, word spread quickly about what had happened. Or what people thought had happened. Before all the details were made public the people in our small town hadn't hesitated to talk and speculate the way they do. Curiosity, however, sometimes becomes evil. People from Prim's wedding started rumors before long; it seemed as though every person there had a different view of what had happened that night on the balcony under the fireworks. Each tall tale was more awful than the next, ranging from Prim paying a coalminer to off her father all the way to me waving a gun around and threatening to kill the entire family. As far as small town gossip went, we were hot news. I still heard different versions and each one made me roll my eyes.

In the end, the truth had prevailed. Gale hadn't meant to kill my father; while he knew the mining expedition was dangerous and risky at best, he hadn't known it would kill him. It was, however discovered that my father's death and a horrible accident were a probability while doing it though. Nothing took away from the fact that Gale had still given the order to mine that area knowing the entire time that my father could die doing it or be severely hurt. Detective Heavensbee told me the main theme in the slew of charges against him was that he had knowingly endangered my father along with countless others. He was brought down for that. He had a ruined company, a name that had been dragged through the mud, and enough lawsuits to keep him tied up for more than awhile.

His father was caught trying to cover up the accident and save his company's name. The investigation unearthed countless lies, cover ups, and pay offs. He'd gone to many lengths to keep his son looking innocent and his stock prices up. I don't follow the stock market, but something told me that Hawthorne Industries stocks weren't worth too much those days. Between that and paying Gale, Rory, Hazelle, and his own hefty bails and all of the lawyer fees, I'm not certain he had much left in his bank account.

Gale's mother, Hazelle, was the only one that had to do a little bit of time in any sort of correctional facility. The fact that she had been drugging my mother for quite some time was the only easy discovery in the entire investigation. Stashes of mild tranquilizers, antidepressants, and just about every other prescription drug that would keep a person comatose at best were found all around the house. The steady cocktail of pills had built up in my mother's system wasn't anything Hazelle could deny. But, after a few weeks in a minimum security jail for some possession and minor restraint charges, she was released for good behavior. My mother had a restraining order against Hazelle that guaranteed she couldn't come within a hundred feet of her, but something told me Hazelle Hawthorne would never come within a hundred miles of any of us ever again.

People around me had been shocked that I hadn't demanded Gale's entire family rot in a prison cell for the rest of their lives. They were astounded that I'd moved on and refused to talk about any of it ever again.

But I'd had enough anger, hurt, and suffering to last me a lifetime.

It was enough to just have my mom and sister and Peeta back and finally get to live.

Well, that and the surprise settlement we'd received several weeks after the trial.

Detective Heavensbee had sat me down with my resurfacing mother and Prim after things settled down and explained that we were being compensated for our losses and suffering. I'd told him that we didn't want their dirty murder money and tried to leave it at that. It was enough that their big empty house on the hill was empty and for sale; their family name had been drug through the dirt, and their company was done for and they'd never make another dime from the mining industry again.

That was enough for me. That money felt like dirty blood money that I wanted nothing to do with. Taking it felt as bad as the bribery they'd been convicted of. Why would I want anything more to do with them? I'd refused to accept any part of it.

At first.

At least until I remembered the other families who'd lost someone in the explosion; a father, a husband, a brother, a breadwinner. Or thought of Prim with no college education. Or my mother, who would still need constant help and therapy to regain her strength and take care of herself.

I'd taken his advice and accepted the money. Detective Heavensbee instructed the Hawthorne lawyer to deposit the funds into an account by the end of that week. The money had sat there for three entire days before I even went to look at it. I'd checked balance the next day and almost keeled over, my palms growing sweaty at just the thought of all those zeros. What on earth would I do with a settlement that large? It didn't feel right to take it, but what other choice did I have? Now that they were there, right in front of me….I knew I couldn't turn it down, but what would I do with it? A girl with my upbringing couldn't exactly just burn it. I'd thought on it for a week before I'd come to any sort of conclusion I felt I could live with.

I'd taken the money and used it for something other than cover ups or bribes or any of the things they would have used for it. I decided to use the money for the exact opposite.

The Hawthornes taught me that money is a wicked, powerful thing when you use it as a tool. They taught me that money can change who you are, hurt the ones you love, and make you do things you wouldn't normally do. But as I took in all the zeros that were suddenly attached to my checking account, I knew immediately how I would use it.

Not as a tool to destroy and lie and kill and deceive and bribe.

I put it to use the best way I knew how – I used it to put things back together.

I paid Haymitch for all the work I'd missed and glasses I'd broken and bought his dumpy little bar new barstools.

I gave Rue and Thresh bonuses for working so hard in the bakery to keep the pieces together when Peeta and I were about to fall apart.

I donated a chunk to the forest reserve that I'd grown to love again after my accident, and added funding to help pay the park rangers.

I funded a benefit and scholarship fund for people with bipolar disorder to help people like beautiful, creative, misunderstood Annie.

I gave Finnick enough to take her on a two week honeymoon to someplace tropical.

I started trust funds for the children of the other miners who'd died, and I paid off the mortgages to their surviving families' homes.

I bought my mother the best therapy money could buy, and made sure Cora would be there for every step.

I gave Prim a modest car of her own and enough money to get on her feet and enough for her first semester of community college.

I bought a piece of land overlooking the lake in the woods for Peeta to build us a house on that was big enough for my mom, too.

I ordered a slew of baby pine trees to place around our new land that would grow tall and full and would smell like my father and remind me of him when I walked past them.

What started out as an amount I was more than uncomfortable with had finally dwindled down to a sum that would keep me and the people around me happy for decades.

We were all still adjusting to life after the trial and the settlement, but I suppose that was normal after something like that happened. Things were starting to feel real again, the lines between the past and what was now slowly blurring and disappearing. Sometimes it felt like no time had passed and it had all happened yesterday; other times, it felt like my accident and time with the Hawthornes and not remembering myself were eons behind us. But each of us was forgetting the ugly and focusing on the newer, positive growth the best way we knew how.

Finnick and Annies's wedding today was only the beginning of all of that. I had a lot of reasons to finally be happy, and I vowed to start focusing on them and putting the past behind It was

I looked at Prim in the front row, sitting on her white folding chair with a happy smile. She was alone for the first time and she was scared – it was a scary thing to be alone, and I knew that – but she was taking important time to get to know herself before taking another leap with someone else. I was proud of her. She was taking my advice and letting herself enjoy being young and out of Rory's daunting shadow. She was living her life as her own for the first time in years and although she complained about being single and lonely occasionally, I'd just let her talk. The first few months had been had for her, but she seemed to have blossomed overnight in synch with the blooming trees outside the bakery. Whenever I'd remind her that she was doing great on her own she would sometimes snap at me that she had no choice and moan and groan about being lonely, but I'd catch her smiling sometimes without her realizing it. Peeta had asked her for 'help' one day at the bakery to get her mind off of Rory and the trial and she'd taken to baking like a fish takes to water. Before I knew it, my clever husband had talked her into working part time and she had become good friends with Rue as she learned the ropes of having an actual job. She of course complained because she was Prim, but I knew she enjoyed her work and being on her own. I'd left Buttercup in her care – partly for his sake, and partly so that the two of them could commiserate together.

Peeta and I had moved out of our apartment above the bakery just three weeks ago. Our house in the woods was far from complete, but I was eager for a fresh start and so was he. We were able to build a house big enough for the two of us, plus a pretty room facing the lake that was just for my mother. Cora still came to help her every day, but she was leaving earlier and earlier.

I shifted my eyes from my sister to my mother, happily taking in her relaxed form as she sighed and watched the wedding. Unfortunately the cocktail of prescription medication Hazelle had been pumping into her had taken a serious toll on her health, and the process of slowly weaning her off of them was a taxing one. Taxing, but worth it. Every day I could slowly see more and more life returning to my mother's eyes, the familiar tones of her soft voice growing louder and more pronounced when she spoke.

It was fulfilling to see her this way but I knew it was difficult for her. She'd admitted to me during one of her clearer days a few weeks ago that there had been one good thing about staying in a fog for the last few years – it had numbed her to the pain of losing my father.

Now with her head clear and her mind becoming her own again, she told me she was conscious enough to remember the pain of his death and the loneliness she felt as a result. 'I loved him Katniss. I loved that man so much it hurt. It was a dangerous love, and I gave it my all. When your daddy left us, he took a piece of me with him that I'll never get back,' she'd told me. I could still remember the sobering pain slicing through my heart to hear her words, some of the clearest she'd spoken in years. I ached for her pain but also for my own; I loved Peeta so desperately, so deeply. What would happen to me if I lost him? What if he left one day and never came back? Would I lose myself like she did?

I shifted my eyes back up to his and chewed my lip. He gave me a concerned gaze as the officiant spoke, realizing I was deep in thought and probably a million miles away.

'You okay?' he mouthed.

I gave him a tiny nod and forced a smile. Today was a happy day and I didn't want to think like that.

Even though my mother was present enough to feel her pain again, a selfish part of me was happy to have her back. I wasn't as close to my mother as I was my father, but I was determined to change that. I wanted to know her again and help her resist the urge to fall back into a numbing fog where she was lost to us. The really scary thought was that I understood her need to numb herself to the world. She admitted that Hazelle had first offered her 'something to ease the pain' at my father's funeral. Too grief stricken and close to collapsing with panic, she told me she'd accepted it.

That had been her first mistake. Her second was allowing Hazelle to coax her further and further into a drugged stupor and not caring enough to get out. 'Losing myself was easier than fighting to feel pain', she'd said.

But she cared now, and that was the important thing. I glanced to her other side, where a pink faced Haymitch sat. We met eyes and his slightly glassy, silver eyes gave me a mirthful little smirk. I didn't hide my amusement when my boss ambled upstairs to our apartment door one spring day to visit my mother. She perked up when she saw her old friend, a smile gracing her lips as he sat next to her on the sofa and reminisced with her for an afternoon. I'd never heard the gruff man speak so softly or go so long without a sarcastic comment. But he was nice to her, I realized. He was a welcomed distraction at first, and soon he became a regular visitor. He'd been good friends with my father and mother and they'd known each other casually for over a decade. But, he'd lost himself to liquor and she'd lost herself to grief. Now that she was slowly coming out of her fog, I noticed fewer and fewer bottles of bourbon and whiskey leaving the stock room at the bar. His pink cheeks and somewhat red eyes would always be telltale signs of his disease, but his addiction was slowly waning. I wasn't sure if my boss and longtime friend would ever beat his alcoholism. Ever. But he was getting help and trying to be strong and I respected him for that. He disappeared for about an hour every few days and always came back in a better mood and I suspected he was attending some AA meetings. I was proud of Haymitch and I would bite back any snide comments about him visiting my mother if it was helping them both as much as I thought it would. She looked forward to his visits and I think he did too – who was I to begrudge them of any ounce of happiness they could find from each other?

We were healing – all of us. That was worth celebrating, and today was definitely all about that. I turned my attention back to the ceremony, feeling slightly guilty I'd spaced out for most of it. On the other side of Finnick, Peeta was still shooting me a look of mild concern. I gave him a smile and another nod to silently tell him I was okay.

I love you, I mouthed. Peeta grinned in answer as the ceremony shifted to the vows. Annie turned and gave me a little smile over her shoulder, handing me her bouquet of white gardenias and peonies so that she could join hands with Finnick. She looked radiant today, as every girl should on her wedding day. I'm not sure Finnick had even taken his eyes off of her. Finnick, the man I'd long ago pegged as a perpetual bachelor and serial dater was so smitten with Annie that it wasn't even funny. The shy, introverted artist had a stranglehold on his heart that he didn't seem to mind at all. He grinned at her and took her hands in his as the officiant began with the next part of her ceremony.

But, not even Finnick's megawatt smile could distract me from the crystalline blue orbs behind him. Peeta stood proudly beside his best friend as the wedding vows were exchanged, his gaze flicking to meet mine every other line or so. I had to look at the ground to keep the emotions from bubbling up inside my chest.

"Do you promise to love her, comfort her, and honor her?"

"I do," Finnick responded proudly. I could almost swear I heard Annie's heart skip a beat. I smiled and shook my head as she gave a little laugh at her almost-new-husband's enthusiasm. I looked over Finnick's shoulder and met my husband's eyes as the traditional vows became just slightly more meaningful. The last time I'd heard them at my own wedding I'd taken them seriously, but it was only now that it felt like they were pieces my soul. They were words to live by and remember and treasure every day. Looking back at both the time before my accident and after, Peeta had been my rock. He'd been there for me at all times; even when he wasn't sure what version of me I would be. He'd selflessly given his entire being to comforting me and loving me even when I didn't know who he was.

A strange rush of emotion filled me as the officiant continued. Peeta watched across the short gap as my eyes grew misty and he did a double take – even he didn't believe my sudden emotional showing. But I couldn't help it.

"To keep her for better or for worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health?"

Again Finnick answered with a resounding happy 'I do', but the words were lost on me as they continued to take on an entirely new meaning. I think Peeta and I had personally put a new definition to the words 'better or worse' – we'd gone from a happy, newlywed couple that was ready to have a baby to practically two strangers, one of which had gone to live with her ex fiancé. When I thought of all the times I could have made the easy apparent choice and just chosen a life with Gale – a life of wealth, prosperity, and easy living, it still made me want to shudder. If I had ignored my gut and just married him I would have lost everything I have now. In a way, my accident and subsequent memory loss had done me a favor – it had solidified my decision to choose Peeta for a second time.

"Forsaking all others, being faithful only to her, for as long as you both shall live?"

I met Peeta's eyes again as we stood on opposite sides of Finnick and Annie, the rest of their vows fading in and out of my ears. I could only see him. Peeta was my past, present, and future and always would be. I'd vowed never to leave him again, and I meant it more now than ever. The past year had shown me how much I had to lose because I'd actually lost it. And maybe that was a gift – I don't know. I'm not sure if I'll ever know why I fell out of that tree and lost every memory of Peeta. At the time I felt like collapsing in on myself and just giving up to the misery I'd felt, but I'd hung on.

I'd taken the scary route at first and had given the man claiming to be my husband a chance. I'd won back my life, and my mother and sister's. I broke my gaze away from his, the tears burning at my eyes. I didn't want to cry – not yet. Peeta gave me another slightly concerned look at I let my emotions show – something I still rarely did. I watched him watch me as Finnick and Annie spoke, a wave of nostalgia washing over me. I had the memory of our own wedding back; it was one that I clung to dearly – however, the need to renew those words only seemed to increase as Peeta's gaze held mine. It was something I'd been thinking about doing a lot recently, and with the new developments in our lives it only seemed fitting.

I jumped a little as the small crowd erupted into cheers as Finnick and Annie kissed. We clapped and smiled as Finnick dipped her down for a dramatic first kiss, laughing as Annie straightened back up and raised her eyebrows in a gleeful response. Handing her bouquet back to her, she gave me a little smile.

"I feel like I'm finally getting my happy ending," she whispered as the crowd stood.

I grinned and wrapped her hand around the flowers, giving it a light squeeze. "This is just the beginning."

She laughed and wiped a tear out of her eye as Finnick pulled her back down the aisle under a shower of rose petals being thrown by the guests. Peeta offered his arm to lead me down the aisle after them, both of us laughing as the small crowd cheered and followed after us.

"What did you say to her to make her smile like that?" he asked as we walked.

I squeezed his arm and bit my lip. "That this isn't a happy ending; it's just the beginning."

Peeta stared out at the disappearing sun, the last few golden tones of the sunset catching his blonde hair. It gleamed brightly against his slightly suntanned face, his strong jaw clenching lightly as he watched it. Sometimes his side profile almost took my breath away.

"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. We had escaped back to the dock after the ceremony, letting Finnick and Annie accept their well wishes from their guests. I knew I needed to talk to Peeta before I chickened out and put it off again.

"That was a beautiful ceremony," I admitted hoarsely, tucking a stray curl behind my ears. Peeta looked at me sideways, a playfully perplexed look on his face.

"Are you showing emotion?" he joked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

"Maybe," I shrugged, a nervous laugh bubbling out of my chest. "Um…well I was thinking that maybe we should renew our vows. Just…maybe later this summer. This all made me…nostalgic," I admitted, gesturing behind us to the hillside. Peeta followed my gaze to the grassy hillside where the flowery arch and white chairs were still set up, Finnick and Annie posing together for a few pictures.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice tinged with a happy disbelief. I could tell he was surprised that I would suggest something so romantic and sappy.

I nodded, gulping down my agitation as I turned to properly face him on the dock. His arm slid slowly from my shoulders, joining his hands with mine. My eyes shifted up to his, appreciating the last of the sun's light as it danced across his features. He stared back at me with kind eyes. The same kind eyes that had calmed me in the hospital when I woke up. The same kind eyes that welcomed me home and made me his again. I wanted to be his – that thought alone baffled me. One of my main qualms with Gale was that he was so possessive of me, of my love. He'd demanded in his firm way, but that had only pushed me further and made me drag my heels.

Peeta had done the opposite. He'd offered himself freely, sweetly giving so much of himself to me when we'd first met that I'd wanted to reciprocate. Not only did I want to give myself to him, I'd been happy to do it. I'd fallen in love with him twice so easily that it made my head spin and my heart beat a little faster every time I thought about it.

I nodded. "Peeta, I…this has been a tough year. A really tough, horrible, awful year," I laughed, feeling my palms grow sweaty.

"We're still standing," he gently reminded me.

"Ever the optimist," I laughed. "But…I guess I wanted to say thank you. Again. Um…I mean….not every woman has a husband that would try so hard to make her fall in love with him again."

He shrugged. "I couldn't live without you. I'm lucky I even got a second chance."

I nodded. "You're so…so you, Peeta," I said finally.

He chuckled and squeezed my hands. "What does that mean?"

"Just….it means you're so special that it was easy to fall in love with you. Twice."

He bobbed his head. "I'm lucky for that."

"So…will you marry me? Erm…again? Peeta?" I asked awkwardly.

He answered me with a bright smile, his jaw stretching to accommodate it. His eyes lit up and he pulled me close. "Yes. Yes, I definitely will marry you again."

"Promise?" I asked hopefully. We both laughed at my awkwardness as Peeta pulled me into a hug. I let his warm arms envelop me, a fluttering feeling bouncing through my chest. I pulled away, smoothing my hair back.

"Uh….well good. I want to do it this summer because….I think it would be nice."

Peeta chuckled as he hugged me again, pulling away to lift my chin up and seal my promise with a kiss. His mouth lingered against mine, the sweet taste of his lips burning pleasantly against mine as they always did.

"I think it would be very nice to renew our vows. I think it's just what we need after this year, Katniss. Yes, I will marry you again. Happily."

I felt my mouth go slightly dry as I gulped. "Well good…because…I'm pregnant."

The happy smile faded from his face, replaced with a look of disbelief and awe. His hands flew to my sides, gripping me tightly and making me jump. "What did you say?"

I winced a little and gave him a crooked smile. It had taken everything in me to push down my fear long enough to skip my last shot I was supposed to get, but I'd finally done it. I wanted this with him, but I was still terrified. I guess that was the difference really – having a child still frightened me, but I knew with Peeta by my side anything was possible. We'd already proved that.

"Yes…I'm…we're pregnant."

"You didn't get your…I thought…oh my God," he rambled nonsensically, a dazed little grin lighting up his features. "Katniss…"

"I almost went to get it and then…I didn't. I lied I guess," I laughed nervously.

Peeta jumped with excitement, pulling me to him for another quick kiss. "Best lie ever. Katniss….I don't think I could be any happier. I just…can this be…?"

I gave him a little smile and guessed what he was going to say before he said it.

"Real."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally in tears right now. Finishing this story has been amazing and I want to thank all of you for sticking by me while I did it. I love you all!
> 
> Big thank you to Phantom Serenity for sticking it out with me on this story! She was a wonderful help and I can't wait to do future work with her!
> 
> Be sure to watch your alerts - I'll be adding Peeta POVs for this story in the upcoming weeks.
> 
> If you read and enjoyed this story ever - please do me a kind service and let me know what you thought. I would love to hear from each and every one of you!


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here mark the start of the NIOF Alternate takes/Peeta POVs. They are just an add on to the story after popular demand - enjoy!

NIOF Bonus scene-Peeta POV

I knocked the little wedge-shaped brick into place with my foot, securing the open door so that it would let the summer breeze inside. I loved this time of year normally, but I couldn't seem to get with it at the moment. I felt lost. I was barely two weeks out of my college career, the ink on my business management degree barely dry with a world of opportunities in front of me and I just…I felt hopeless.

Trudging back into my father's bakery, I smoothed down my slightly wrinkled apron and took my place behind the counter. I could hear my father in the back, fiddling with the switches on his out-of-date mixer, cursing under his breath that he'd just mix it himself if it didn't cooperate. I snorted as I began looking at the sales for the day. As if that mixer could understand his threats. Was he insane?

I shouldn't tease him though. He was close to retirement and it would be well deserved. He'd single handedly kept our small town satisfied as the sole bakery, edging out the need and desire for a bigger chain. There was one the next town over, but I liked to think we kept the surrounding area stocked pretty well to not have one. I guess you could say I was a little obsessed with bread, but it was in my blood.

Sometimes I had to roll my eyes at myself.

My eyes scanned the paper log from the register, marveling at the sheer gross we'd done since opening at five this morning. The old man might be slightly crazy, but people loved his damn bagels and coffee at that hour. Having an older shop and out of date machinery that he talked to seemed to be working for him. I shook my head and chuckled as I heard him slap the side of the mixer with an aggravated grunt. Dealing with that stupid thing was the only thing that made my father ever get angry.

Two women stepped through the open door, collecting my attention. I heard them both inhale as they took in the scents wafting from the back, and I couldn't blame them; the smell of cinnamon bagels cooking and freshly baked French bread never got old, even to me after all these years. If someone opened my brain and looked at what made me up, I'm certain they would see that the scent of freshly baked bread and the sight of flower bags were my happy place.

And I was fine with that.

"Can I help you ladies?"

One of them beamed at me. "We smelled this shop from down the street and had to come see what it was! I've never seen this place…is it new?" she asked in an oblivious tone.

I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from looking around with a smirk. The dilapidated sign on the front, the heavy oak door with rusted hinges, and the chipped tile floor she was standing on didn't exactly scream 'new'. The tables were all shoved against one side of the wall, the cases didn't match, and there were several other signs that hinted our shop had gone through more than one change or growth spurt over the years. But I wouldn't state the obvious.

"Mellark Family Bakery. Been in business over fifty years," I stated proudly. A rusty door hinge and a mixer that was too old to cooperate couldn't take that away from us. My father, my father's father, and even my brothers could bake. My brothers had all gone away to college and gotten white collar jobs of course, but that didn't take away from the 'family' aspect of it all. We were Mellarks. We baked. That was just life.

Well, for me anyway. I was spending what was hopefully my last summer working full time for my old man before branching out on my own. He wouldn't say it, but I knew he would be happy to turn the family business over to me so that he could get some rest. My father was getting older, and as much as I hated to admit it, he needed to relax. Lugging hundred pound bags of flour around and standing on his feet for twelve hours a day wasn't what he needed to be doing. He needed to be relaxing and enjoying the prime of his life; he needed to leave the rest to me. And he would as soon as the timing was right. He claimed he wasn't ready to retire just yet, so I was willing to use this time to learn all that I could from him before I took over and made the business my own. I had dreams and a savings account that were making me chomp at the bit to do it, but I would wait for my dad. Family meant a lot to me and I needed his blessing. I would wait. My old man had a lot to teach me yet.

The door to the bakery was open, so I didn't see hear the silver bell above it ring when she walked in. Her footsteps must have been completely silent, for I practically jumped when I saw her. I'd been busy listing off types of bagels we offered, pointing through the glass case as the women continued to coo in amazement over the selection when she appeared behind them. I looked up quickly and did a double take as I offered my normal 'be with you in a minute' statement.

Her cool blue eyes met mine as she gave me the briefest of nods. I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest as I tried to turn my attention back to the ladies in front of me.

Wow.

My throat went dry as I finished listing off the last type of bagel, detailing the way we mixed brown sugar and cinnamon to make the crunchy top and what the hell was I even saying…I had to blink to remind myself to not act like a complete basket case. Hot girls walked into the bakery every single day. But this one…was downright beautiful. She stood completely stoic and stunning behind the chattering women, her side braid tucked against her neck as she twirled the end nonchalantly. Her eyelashes briefly brushed the delicate skin beneath her eyes as she scanned the cases. I felt frustration bubble in my chest – why couldn't they just pick a damn bagel and let me talk to this girl?

My dating life was non-existent. In college, I was either friend zoned or slightly walked on by girls looking for the 'nice guy' between their latest asshole conquests. I'd shoved a social life to the side for senior year, content to earn good grades and bring my grade point up. But after a yearlong drought in the bedroom and a need to get to know the girl in front of me, I was done for.

I fumbled my way through the sale, finally pawning them off with two sweet teas and a few cinnamon raisin bagels before I could turn my attention back to her.

My throat became the Sahara.

"What can I get for you?" I managed to squeak. Shit, gorgeous women always did this to me. I knew I wasn't exactly Quasimodo but that didn't seem to help my confidence any. I gulped again.

Her observant eyes scanned the cases again, a frown forming on her tan face. She looked like she was looking for something?

"I used to get a bagel here when I was little that I liked….but I don't see it."

I felt my stomach do a small flip. "You…you've come here before?"

She nodded. "With my dad."

Her face returned to the frown, and this time her cool blue eyes flicked up to meet mine across the glass case. It was then that my slow, stupid brain was finally able to process the fact that her eyes were not in fact blue, but a chilly shade of light grey. I was already willing to bet that natural sunlight would turn them into sparkly orbs of silver, but I needed to take it one step at a time here.

Focus.

"Uhm…well what did he order? I might have it in the back, or it might still be in the oven. We uh…get busy in the mornings and sometimes our best sellers are gone by the time most people are awake and…"

Shit, I was rambling.

"I…do you come here a lot? I try to know most of the regulars," I prodded. How could I have met her before and not remembered her? I would have remembered her.

"Oh, um…I haven't been here in ages."

"Oh."

I scratched the back of my head, pinching the skin at the nape of my neck to try to jolt some sense back into me. She twisted the end of her braid and shrugged. "He still gets it sometimes. Something crunchy? Does that sound weird? It probably does, I can just ask him…"

An awkward laugh bubbled up into my chest as I shook my head a little too quickly. "No, no, tell him that's a good choice. It's the cinnamon crunch bagel; here…I have some that just came out. Fresh, just for you. Erm…"

That sounded lame. Why did everything that came out of my mouth today sound so lame?

She nodded, a trace of a smile gracing a corner of her mouth. "Um…that's it, yeah."

I grabbed the tongs and a Mellark Bakery bag, my movements jerky and nervous as I grabbed her the bagel she wanted. "Just one?"

The little smile became bigger. "No, uhm…I'll see him later today. Two, please."

I nodded, tossing two into the bag, along with a third. My eyes flicked up to hers to meet the frown.

"One for….later. I can usually never have just one of these."

She gave me a shy smile that made my heart stutter. "Or I could shove my face with it now. Scarf it down," she laughed quietly, her own tone taking an endearingly awkward turn. Was it my imagination, or did her cheeks turn slightly pink?

"Yeah. I mean…they're amazing. I make them sometimes."

She accepted the bag as I handed it across the counter to her. Our fingers brushed for the briefest second and I knew I could die happy. No, I couldn't. I had to at least know her name.

"You made these? These exact bagels?" she teased lightly, her silvery eyes twinkling.

I couldn't lie to her, not even about bagels. My stomach twisted.

"Well….n-not these exact bagels. Um…I make them usually when my dad has other stuff to do."

"Ah," she nodded. "Mellark Family Bakery."

"Yeah. Erm…yeah," I replied stupidly, twisting my hands on my flour-doused apron. Say something intelligent, you idiot.

"Well how much do I owe you for the bagels?" she finally asked.

I knew my father would have zero qualms about me giving away free pastries to a cute girl, but I had a fleeting thought; running her debit card would at least log her name. I was clearly too much of a coward to ask for it, but what if I got her to sign a receipt?

"Um…just the two. Third one is one me," I stumbled, moving to the cash register. I rang up two bagels and gave her the employee discount when she wasn't looking, giving her the total. To my mild horror I watched her reach into her small purse for a few crumpled dollar bills and some change. Shit, I thought. No name. My tongue suddenly felt like lead in my mouth.

"You're sure you want to charge me for just the two? It feels like stealing. Especially from a small place like this," she offered meekly.

I shook my head and waved her off. "Nah. Just promise me if you want some decent bread you'll come here and not some wannabe like Panera or some crap like that," I chuckled.

She met my eyes and smiled warmly. "I'll be sure to do that. Well…thanks for the bagels," she replied, holding up the bag. I felt my throat tighten and close as I fought the urge to call out after her. She walked gracefully to the door, turning slightly as he crossed the threshold to give me a tiny wave.

And then she was gone.


	45. Chapter 45

NIOF – Peeta's POV Chapter 2

I'd thought for sure that she was gone forever.

Those bagels couldn't have been that good, right? Maybe they were terrible. Not worth coming back for. Utterly forgettable.

Just like I was.

No, she was never coming back.

I'd missed my chance because I was, as my brothers would lovingly put it – a 'pussy'.

Lovely.

But then one day when I was starting to lose hope, thinking that my hopeful thinking and bagel making skills aren't worth a shit, fate skipped me a bit of luck.

The next time she came back to the bakery it's like…serendipity. Or kismet…I don't think that word is right, but whatever! Because she came back.

She came back for me.

Or more bagels.

I wasn't sure.

All I knew was that one afternoon she came breezing back into the bakery, making the bell above the door chime differently somehow. It sounded like it was happily welcoming her back into my life.

I was pathetic, I knew it.

I didn't really know why she came back, but by the time she wanders up to the counter and notices me I've somehow managed to thoroughly convince myself that she came back because of me.

Or maybe because my cinnamon crunch bagels didn't suck.

But whatever – I've been the one making them for the last two weeks just on the off chance that she would come in and I could be able to tell her that I was the one that baked them.

"We meet again," I blurted out. Shit, that sounded like I was specifically waiting around for her to come back. I leaned back and subtly braced myself for the cool girl answer 'Oh, who are you? Oh right! Yeah…from that one time.'

But Girl with the Braid didn't do that. (That's what I'd named her).

"I said I would. My dad is lucky I even saved him a bagel. You make a kickass bagel, or at least your dad does, so….I guess you could say I take my carb consumption seriously."

I couldn't fight the grin. "Really?"

"Really," she smiled. "Did you actually bake them this time? Not just relying on your dad to help you float through life on a charade of bagel making skills?"

A surge of pride and satisfaction raced through me as I manage to nod and fight the urge to stare at her silvery eyes. "Yes, I did actually. Made them myself."

"Nice," she nodded brightly. "Well, I'm actually here for something else, but I'm not sure, uh…. you have any um…like long skinny loaves? I'm attempting to make something fancy to take to a party tonight and um…."

"Cooking not your thing?" I guessed, walking over to the counter with the bread.

"No," she admitted sheepishly, twirling the end of her braid. I glanced at the front door of the shop, silently willing someone not to come barging in. I wanted to talk to this girl as much as I possibly could without any interruptions. The chatty ladies from the first time we'd met kept haunting my perfect memory of our first encounter. I knew I was romanticizing a silly crush, but what else did I have to do when I was elbow deep in bread dough half the day?

"I hate it, actually. I always manage to burn something or screw up the recipe by reading the measurements wrong. Just…no, does not go well for me when I try to cook."

"So what are you taking to said party?" I asked, giving her my best 'I'm a very educated baker' look.

I'm willing to bet I just looked slightly pensive but more confused than anything.

"Uhm…I'm going to try bruschetta. And I want to bring like…slices of little bread to put it on."

I nodded. "You need a French loaf. I have some of that."

"Awesome," she sighed. "It's the only remotely fancy thing I think I can make so…"

"Nah, it'll be good. You should go down to the farmer's market on the riverfront. Might be a little early in the season, but you might be able to find some black tomatoes to add to it. Add some flavor. And use fresh garlic too…not that jarred crap."

She snorted. "The garlic I own is actually in a squeeze bottle."

I put my hand over my heart and feigned hurt. "What…."

She winced, laughing louder than I'd ever heard. Well, louder than I'd ever heard in the two times I'd ever seen her before. But it was a beautiful sound; slightly hoarse, a little out of control, and it echoed off the tile floor of the front of the bakery. It wasn't fake or girly or polite; it was a laugh.

"Breakin' my heart here, braid girl," I let slip.

She cocked her head to the side. "What?"

Shit. I'd pretty much just admitted I had a nickname in my head for her and condemned myself to 'creepy bread guy' in her head.

"Uhhh…well, the braid," I stammered, pointing to her hair. Her hands went up to tentatively touch her beautiful chocolate hair she had woven into a side braid again today.

"Oh…right," she smiled. "I guess I need a new hairstyle if even the guy at the bakery is calling me 'braid girl'," she muttered, shaking her head.

I gulped back my nervousness. It was now or never. "Well I'm Peeta, so…you at least don't have to call me 'creepy bread guy' or anything," I tried to joke.

Her eyebrows rose up a little bit. "What…..no, really, what's your name?"

I felt my face slip into a crooked grin as I wiped my slightly sweaty hands on my apron. "Uhm…Peeta."

She snorted in a rather un-girlish way, shaking her head again as she laughed into her hand. "Who are your brothers and sisters? Rye, sourdough and ciabatta?"

She laughed at her own joke across the counter, and I decided to mess with her.

"Well…Ciabatta is actually really sensitive about her name, um…."I shook my head, pretending to get emotional. "She was named after our great grandmother…she's from Italy and actually is thought to be the creator of one of the first recipes for the bread, so….it's really sacred in our family because we consider it an homage to the woman that inspired us, as a family at least…to love bread. To love what we do. We named little Ciabatta for my great grandmother just for that reason."

Her silver eyes slowly went wide with panic as she failed to realize I was totally joking with her.

"Oh my God, Peeta-"

It was too hard. I burst out laughing, shaking my head at her gullible nature. "You seriously bought that I had a sister name Ciabatta?"

I laughed again as she tried to talk over me. "Well…wait, is your name even Peeta?! Stop laughing! Oh my God, I…I felt so bad!" she finally squeaked out. She rewarded my stupid joke with another loud bout of laugher, joining in with me. It felt good to be able to make a pretty girl laugh.

"No, but my name really is Peeta. Peeta Mellark," I managed to say once I'd calmed down. I was nervous and giggly and feeling very flirty at that moment. "Swear."

Her eyes were still waiting; tentatively holding out and watching me for signs that I was joking. "I swear. I lied about my fictitious sister named Ciabatta, but my name is Peeta Mellark. Swear on it," I promised.

Braid girl crossed her arms, giving me a doubtful look before a smile slowly crept onto her face. "Okay. I believe you. Were you being serious about the cooking tips? I'm not going to poison anyone or anything?"

I chuckled. "By telling you to use fresh garlic? Uh…no. You're not going to poison anyone. Just spray some olive oil on the bread and toast it for a minute on each side before you take it to your party or whatever. It'll make it nice and crispy. Maybe a sprinkle of Romano melted into it. You know, give it a little flavor or whatever."

She nodded, seeming impressed. "Wow, uh….that sounds easy enough. Gosh, you're pretty helpful for a baker."

I shrugged, flashing her a smile that I hoped was charming. "I like to cook. I mean…it kinda comes naturally when you're around food all the time. You're bound to pick up a thing or two."

"Right," she agreed.

I pulled out a loaf of French bread, carefully wrapping it up in a Mellark Bakery bag for her before grabbing another bag for some of my bagels.

Bagels that I'd made for her.

"I just need the bread, actually…"

I turned to her with an eyebrow raised. "So if I give you a bagel you won't eat it?"

She grinned. "I never said that."

"It's on me. For teasing you. And for making you feel bad about my made up little sister named Chapatti."

"Ciabatta," she corrected with a smirk. "I'm…Katniss, by the way. Before you ask, it's a plant. My dad is into hunting and woodsy…stuff," she laughed again with her awkward, hoarse sounding little laugh. Her eyes met mine as I handed her the bread and the bagel, our skin brushing for a split second.

"Katniss, well…it's very nice to officially meet you."

Her eyes flicked down as our hands brushed, a tiny smile appearing on her lips. "It was nice to meet you too…Peeta."


	46. Chapter 46

Peeta POV - Chapter 3

"It smells like sex and fruit rollups in here," I announced upon walking into Finnick's apartment.

He swiped a dirty sock off the arm of his couch, giving me a shit eating grin like he's proud of what I'd just observed.

"I know," he chuckled smugly. I was busy trying to not to think of the reason he was collecting pieces of clothing that were scattered all around his pig-sty of an apartment. "Jealous?"

"It wasn't…really a compliment," I trailed off, shaking my head at him.

We were supposed to go out for drinks tonight, but something told me Finnick might be a bit tuckered out. It was just past six in the evening, yet he was just now starting to function again after a night of….sex and fruit rollups, apparently. I sat down on the edge of his couch before thinking better of it and opting to stand. It unsettled me a bit that the entire apartment smelled like sex; in my somewhat limited experience with the kind of all-night, slightly raunchy sex (that I imagined Finnick always had) it usually only left my bedroom smelling like that. But the entire place? Standing instead of sitting on a flat surface definitely seemed like a better option.

"I had company," he stated, shrugging at me as if those three words alone explained everything. He fished one of his shoes out from under the couch, flashing me the grin that had gotten him out of trouble so many times over the years. Well, maybe until lately. That smile hadn't been able to get him out of his latest predicament, but I wasn't his mother and it wasn't my place to try to stop him. I could only offer him advice if he chose to take it, and Finnick wasn't exactly a 'stop and ask for directions' kinda guy.

"Yeah, uh…that explains the sex smell…the fruit rollup not so much."

"She wanted to spice it up a bit, so I brought out the pair of edible undies I had in the goody drawer. It's just a big fruit rollup with holes, I mean…who knew?" he chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

Jesus, you'd think he'd just discovered time travel.

I watched Finnick try to corral himself, I could only shake my head. Finnick was a different breed as far as I was concerned. How or why he needed to 'spice things up' with a woman he'd probably only spoken to twice before in his life was beyond me, but I'd learned long ago that I was far too squeamish for most of the details of my best friend's somewhat sordid life. The only thing I could do was occasionally listen and hope he didn't indulge too much.

He jammed a worn pair of Converse on his feet before motioning towards the door. "Still want that drink?"

I nodded, following him out the door of his apartment. I wasn't a huge drinker, but I was in serious need of some advice about what to do about Katniss. Like how I was going to get her to talk to me again, for instance. I only had her first name; no last name, no number, no address, workplace…nothing. I was perpetually hung up on a girl I'd met twice and had no guarantee to ever see again. But I was going crazy. Every dark head, every braid, every girl in her twenties had me craning my head around to double check that it wasn't her. I'd been a full week since I'd seen her last and I was already going insane. Not to mention my neck was seriously starting to hurt with mild whiplash.

"Are you sure about the drinking thing though?" I asked as we loaded into my dad's delivery van. "We can like…go bowling or something."

Finnick climbed in the passenger side, shaking his head. "Bowling requires drinking. And bowling allies have cheap beer. Might as well go to a decent bar and get us something worth sucking down, eh?"

I shook my head at him and started the engine. I was driving and I was asking about drinking because Finnick was fresh off a DUI – nothing was going to stop him from drinking, but if I was with him I figured I could at least make sure he got home again without doing anything stupid that would land him back in jail. I'd bailed him out the last time and he still owed me for half, but I knew he'd be good for it. Eventually.

The waitress placed our third round of beers down in front of us, beaming proudly at Finnick as he slipped her a tip. "Service is spectacular," he flirted carelessly, lifting an eyebrow at her. She snickered and walked away, swaying her bottom at him as she walked.

Finnick snorted as he caught my eye. "What can you do?"

"Not hit on anything without a dick would be a start," I chuckled, sipping my beer.

"Right. When pigs fly, friend."

"Right."

Finnick took a long sip of his beer, his bright eyes studying me over the rim of the glass. "What's eating you?"

"Huh?"

"You," he pointed at me. "You seem…distracted. Befuddled. Pensive. What gives?"

I wrinkled my nose. "For a womanizing drunk, you can be awfully perceptive."

He shrugged in his little-kid way and began stacking the sugar cubes on the plate in front of him. He always managed to sweet talk the waitresses into bringing him a little plate of sugar whenever we came down to the corner bar. All the waitresses would roll their eyes at him until he tossed them a wink or a flirty grin and the next thing I knew there was a little plate of sugar cubes on our table. I would assume they were kept in the dumpy little bar for two reasons: to make cheap champagne cocktails for the older patrons and for Finnick to crunch in his teeth while he drank.

"I...well I met someone."

Finnick grinned over his beer glass and swallowed, slapping his thigh. "Sweet! How is she in bed and when can I meet her?"

"So you can steal her away from me?" I joked.

"Precisely."

I twisted my mouth into a grimace as I prepared to tell him that I didn't exactly know either of the answers to his questions. But Finnick beat me to it.

"Fuck man, you don't even know her name, do you?" he groaned.

"I do. It's Katniss. You wouldn't…happen to know her, would you?"

He raised an eyebrow at me. "You mean to ask me if I've fucked her. No. I do keep track of first names and that name my friend, is a first. No, I don't 'know' her, as you've so delicately put it. Fucking asshole."

"Fine, fair enough," I chuckled. "She came into the bakery a few weeks ago. When she came back I got her name, but…I haven't seen her in a week. Stupid, I know," I sighed. "But I can't stop thinking about her. We talked and just…clicked."

Finnick raised an eyebrow. "But this isn't the first time you've told me about a pretty girl. What's different about this one? You wear your heart on your sleeve and fall for a different girl twice a week. Or used to. Until you muff out and never talk to her, where you then mope miserably for a month before falling into puppy love with the next candidate."

"I haven't had a crush on a girl for months," I spat back. "You're exaggerating."

"Am I?"

"Finnick…yes. Can we please talk about Katniss and not my nonexistent sex life?"

"Proceed. Tell me about the girl of your dreams. Every detail. I'm listening."

"That's just it," I admitted, opting to ignore his jabs. "I don't know. I don't know a thing about her and yet I just feel...different. Every time I see her I just get so….like panicked. Like I know I have to impress her because she's someone important. Like my whole future depends on what I say to her and how I act. When she walked through the door that day I just felt….different. "

Finnick had grown quiet as he listened to me talk. "Different? How?"

"Good different," I clarified. "I mean…like I want to get to know her. Like she's someone I should get to know, you know?"

"No," he smirked. "But go on. What's stopping you?"

That was so Finnick; he saw a problem, he made a move, and he solved it. That's just how he's always operated, even since we were kids. Act first, live in the moment, and then maybe think about it later. That wasn't the way I operated no matter how much I tried to be like him when it came to dealing with women. Instead I was more think first, overthink it, pause, choke, and then be bludgeoned with regret before thinking some more. I just had no luck when it came to these things and I was hoping Finnick could shed some light on it for me.

"We talked and joked and it was so…refreshing. She's normal. Not supermodel pretty, but just beautiful. Like the kind you can be without even trying. And her laugh is…wow. I've never heard a laugh like that. It's real. She made me feel like I was the funniest guy she'd ever met. Her face is burned into my brain…"

Finnick took another long sip of his drink, avoiding my line of vision.

"I know what you're thinking," I groaned. "You're thinking I'm putting the….the pussy on a pedestal again, right?"

He thought a moment, his face unusually pensive.

"No, Peet….I actually don't think you're doing anything wrong. It seems to me that you really like her. You seem to care about her and….you've barely met her. I barely care that much about a girl I've had sex with five or six times. Or twenty."

"What?" I stammered. "You're serious? You don't think I'm doing the wrong thing?"

"Everyone pines after someone," he shrugged. "You're no different. Did you want my advice?"

I nodded.

Finnick gave me a helpless look. "Normally I'd say ask her out and don't take no for an answer. I'd say do everything you could to just get with her. But….she sounds important."

I felt my mouth drop open a little. "Who are you and what have you done to Finnick?"

He laughed quietly, shaking his head as he twirled his empty beer glass in his hand. "Shut it, I just….I'm jealous of you. I've literally listened to you describe this girl for five minutes and I've realized I've never felt that way about anyone…ever. Not a girlfriend, a one night stand, a fling…nothing. I'm a little envious. Even if you never see her again man….that's deep. That's something, that's for sure."

"Deep," I muttered, taking another long sip of beer. "That's not going to help me much. Like you said, I might not ever see her again. What then?"

"Nothing, I guess."

Nothing. That word seemed to echo in my brain. What if she never came back? What if I hunted for her and never found her again?

"So," he reached across the table to softly slug me in the shoulder, "So hope to God you do see her again and then…make it count. Ask her out; lay it out on the line. At least then you'd know you did everything you possibly could to make this wonderful girl yours. If you don't do it man…you'll never know."

"What if she says no?"

Finnick gave me his typical little shoulder shrug. "Then she says no. Then at least you'll know that you did it. The thought will be in her head that you asked. That you tried. Maybe a 'no' now will sit with her and became a 'maybe'. Then she'll come running back with a 'yes'. No doesn't always mean never, especially not in this case. What if it's a not now?"

I shook my head, draining my beer. The alcohol was starting to make my head a little fuzzy, but somehow things were clearer. Hell, maybe I was shitfaced if Finnick was actually starting to sound like the logical one.

"But Peet….you have to at least try. Because at least then you can at least sit here with me and say "I did everything I could' as opposed to 'I'll never fucking know'. Would you be able to live with that?"

"No," I answered without thinking. "I wouldn't."


	47. Chapter 47

NIOF Peeta POV ch. 4

The next day was his day off, and for that Peeta was eternally grateful. He wasn't a huge drinker so his hangovers, although few and far between, hit him monumentally. His head was absolutely pounding and his ears were ringing. He felt like he'd run a marathon the night before; his entire body ached and his mouth felt like a desert. Why was drinking with Finnick a good idea again? He wasn't sure.

He sluggishly pulled himself out of bed, silently cursing Finnick for being able to talk him into down the shots of brown liquor the night before. Peeta wasn't even sure what it would have been – whiskey? Brandy? After the three stout beers and another pitcher on top of that, Peeta hadn't exactly been in the clearest state of mind. By the end of the night he briefly remembered staggering home on foot with Finnick as the two of them discussed ways Peeta was going to find Katniss and profess his undying love for her. And on top of that, he swore he remembered Finnick promising that his plan would work. Right, Peeta thought sarcastically. However, beneath a slew of awful ideas that usually got Finnick slapped, arrested, or banned from an establishment he occasionally did have a rare good idea. Peeta knew he'd hear his friend out before either shooting him down or actually trying it. What did he have to lose at this point? Nothing.

He winced as he splashed his face with cold water. Several things would probably hinder whatever plan Finnick had come up with, but he would focus on the details later.

Peeta stumbled out of the unfinished bathroom, carefully avoiding the spots in the floor where there were bits of nails or drywall littering the unfinished hardwood. He had just moved into the small apartment above a deli a few weeks before and it was still in somewhat sorry shape. However, with limited income and a bread van as his only means of transportation at the moment, his options were somewhat limited. He was fixing it up though, and it was within walking distance of his father's bakery and thankfully, the bar he had visited with Finnick the night before. They'd left the bread van in the parking lot and walked home, Peeta hoping that he could demonstrate to his friend how easy and not that bad it was to just leave his car someplace and get it the next morning. Finnick couldn't take another DUI or Peeta knew he'd be driving his sorry ass everywhere for the next five years of his life.

He ambled out to the large space that would someday be his living room and winced at the bright light streaming through the tall windows on the opposite side of the room. It didn't look like much now, but the storage space had potential. His father had been helping him work on it on their days off, and Peeta was hopeful it would someday make a nice apartment.

He shuffled over to the pathetic looking couch placed randomly in the middle of the open room and used his toe to nudge the lumpy form beneath the blanket.

"You alive?"

Finnick tossed back the crumbled comforter he was nestled beneath and flashed him a dazzling grin. "Alive and ready to party."

Peeta winced again and scrubbed his face with his hands. "How do you do it? I feel like death."

Finnick grunted slightly, tossing back the blanket and standing quicker than Peeta could even think about moving.

"Practice, mate. Now what are off to?"

That was just like Finnick though, Peeta realized. Alive, bright eyed, and ready to do the next stupid thing life would toss him.

"We have to go back to the bar and get the van. Then breakfast. Ulgh," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. His head was throbbing. "Remind me to never let you buy me drinks again. Ever."

"Stop whining, Mellark. Oh, that's right. We left that nasty van at the bar. And now we have to go all the way back to get it…."

"Finnick, it's not a big deal. Walking back to the bar this morning beats a night in jail, doesn't it?"

His friend stretched, flexing his perfect physique as he winkled his nose. "Fine, fine. You know, for a fun drunk you're certainly not a fun drunk the morning after."

"Yeah yeah. Get dressed, I need coffee," Peeta managed to croak. As Finnick peeled his clothes off the floor and dutifully got dressed, Peeta fought the urge to vomit and did the same.

"You know, this place might actually look halfway decent someday," Finnick mused as Peeta searched around the cluttered kitchen island for his keys. Every flat surface of the bright, open apartment was littered with power tools, light fixtures, and about every type of miscellaneous construction knick knack one would ever need. A fine layer of sawdust and drywall dust littered everything on top of that, but it was coming along.

"Yeah. The lady downstairs thought it was a good idea to turn it into a living space. Her husband always wanted to do it before he died, but he never got around to it. I rent it for next to nothing and she's letting me do construction on it," he explained, looking around the open room.

The little old woman that owned the deli below the apartment was more than thrilled with the idea of Peeta actually finishing the project. He'd been home on his last Christmas break from college the year before was looking for a place to live when he graduated when his father had suggested he talk to Mrs. Perantini about the room above the ancient deli. As Peeta cut across the large storage space to get to the bedroom and bathroom that was for rent, he'd made a comment in passing that if finished the space would make a really neat apartment. The older woman had jumped at the idea and before he knew it he'd had cheap rent and a project on his hands for all of the free time he suddenly had on the nights and weekends. As long as he kept everything up to code and had his father help, the cheery Italian woman was more than happy to let him do with it whatever he pleased. It was a win-win.

Finnick followed him to the front door, jovially thumping him on the back. "See? That's just like you. Ever the optimist. Now, Peet. Let's talk more about this girl you're going to marry."

Peeta gave him a skeptical look as they walked down the stairs to the street. "What? Finnick….look, I know I was drunk last night but-"

"But nothing. I remember very little of our conversation to be completely honest, but I do remember you talking nonstop about this girl. So how are you going to get her? We need a game plan, man. One we can actually remember this time."

"I was hoping you already had a plan other than 'just do it'," Peeta groaned.

They stepped out onto the street, the early summer morning greeting them. People bustled around them, completing their morning business in the little downtown district that Peeta had grown to love. The air was muggy and warm as the late-morning sun beat down on them as they ambled back in the direction of the little bar they'd been at the night before. Peeta sighed and shrugged his shoulders, jamming his hands into his pockets.

"I don't know, man. That's just it. That's why I told you about my problem. I told you about a girl problem – that should show you how desperate I really am," he chuckled.

Finnick gave him a mocking look. "Like I can't help you with a woman problem? Peeta, I know you're skeptical about my talents but may I remind you that I have a dick and actually know how to use it?"

"I know you can't help me. Whore," Peeta jabbed playfully, giving Finnick a sideways smile.

They sidetracked their way into a little diner, temporarily forgetting about their trek to retrieve the van after the smell of fresh bacon and greasy hash browns wafted into their noses. They now sat in the small, sidecar diner with cups of steaming coffee as Finnick continued to try to help his friend.

"I'm just saying, you have to do something before it's too late. Make a move. What if some other loser snatches her up and whisks her off her feet? Especially when there's a perfectly nice loser right here waiting to do just the thing," Finnick joked, gesturing across the table to Peeta.

Peeta made a face. "Thanks, love you too Finn."

"I'm just saying…"

Finnick's words floated in one ear and out the other as he silently sipped his coffee and gazed out the window of the diner. What would he do if Katniss walked by, right now? If the so-called girl of his dreams ambled past that very window and only a layer of glass separated them? Was Finnick finally right for once in his life?

He paid little attention to the waitress as she walked quietly up, freshening his coffee with a soft smile. Peeta offered her a polite 'thank you' as he sipped his newly warm drink and continued to stare out the window. He barely realized that Finnick's chatter had suddenly come to a halt.

"What?" he asked.

Finnick stared, slack jawed as the waitress walked away.

"What is it?"

He'd never seen Finnick stop mid-sentence before, especially not for a woman. And yet he still stared, jaw open and sea-green eyes wide as he watched the waitress from across the small sidecar.

"Finn, you're scaring me. Are you uh…ready to order, or what?"

Finnick's attention snapped back to Peeta, his expression blank. "Forget your troubles, Peet. Forget breakfast, forget the van. I've just found the girl I'm going to marry."

Peeta felt his own mouth slacken slightly as Finnick watched the waitress return to their table. She was a pretty, albeit plain girl with a pale completion, auburn hair, and a sweet smile. She was the exact opposite of everything he'd known Finnick to go for. Peeta leaned back in the booth and crossed his arms as the girl paused in front of them. Peeta bit back a smile, giving Finnick a challenging look. Show me how it's done, he silently goaded him.

He watched Finnick gulp as his eyes flicked to her plastic nametag.

"So….has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful smile…Annie?"


	48. Chapter 48

NIOF – Peeta POV ch. 5

"So…has anyone ever told you that you have a beautiful smile…Annie?"

I let my eyes flick up to the girl waiting with her pen poised above her little grease-speckled notepad. Her eyes widened for a moment then calmed as she sat back on her hip and raised her eyebrows.

"What'll you have?" she asked in a timid yet somehow no-nonsense manner. Good, I thought. I loved Finnick like a brother but it was always good to see him knocked down a few notches to remind him that he wasn't as untouchable as he thought he was. You'd think a DUI and a drunken night in jail would be enough to convince him otherwise, but so far I was still waiting for his epiphany to hit him. I shook my head as Finnick took her subtle diss in stride and flashed his perfect white smile at her. Annie seemed to bristle.

"I'll have the blueberry pancakes. And juice," I offered meekly, hoping to diffuse some of the tension.

"And you?" she asked, turning back to Finnick.

He gave her a little head nod. "I'd have you, if you'd take me," he offered boldly. Jesus, he sounded like he was a knight offering his rescue to a stranded lady in need. As if he was doing her a favor and she wasn't a waitress waiting on two hung-over guys in a sidecar diner on a Sunday morning. I'd love to take a stroll through Finnick's world of La-La land he's running in his head someday. Must be a great place.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes and almost failed, making me snort. He was probably the last thing she wanted to deal with today.

"Finnick, just order, will you?"

He shot me a glance full of daggers across the table, but his confidence never wavered as he proceeded to spout of his order like he had been hired to record the audio book of a soft-core erotica novel. By the time Annie snatched the menus from our hands I was fighting the urge to run out of the diner in shame.

"Man…take it down a notch, will you? I can't even take you out in public anymore."

Finnick watched her leave, his eyes reading the poor girl like a book. "She doesn't get hit on often, that one. Did you see how it threw her? And how she looked annoyed but could barely look me in the eye? Yeah, she's just shy. Inexperienced a bit I'd wager. I bet she's a good girl."

I gave him a skeptical look as I sipped my coffee. "Yes, which is exactly why you should have mercy on the poor girl and leave her alone."

While he eased up on the flirtiness with Annie while we ate, I knew Finnick wasn't going to give up easily. The only thing worse than a flirty, man-whorish Finnick was a Finnick whose day wasn't going according to whatever plan he had in his head. He could be insistent and unyielding, pouting and crabby like an insolent child when he didn't get his way. Annie dropped off the check at our table with an annoyed huff, barely giving him the time of day. Either the girl absolutely hated him or she was a genius – her hard to get act was driving my best friend crazy.

"What are you doing?" I groaned, watching as he snatched up the check to write something. Finnick didn't usually volunteer to pay for breakfast, so I knew I was in for a treat.

He waggled his eyebrows at me and scribbled something across the bottom of the check. "Breakfast is on me."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Not every day I meet my future wife."

"Well that depends-"

"Nah, nah. She's into me. She just doesn't know it yet."

I shot him a skeptical look as finished off the last of my coffee, Finnick scribbling his phone number and a short note across the bottom of the paper with a little flourish. I had to admire his confidence – if a girl looked at me the way Annie regarded him I'd be halfway to Canada by now.

"You're a really sick individual, you do realize this right?"

He hissed at me to shut up as she walked back to our table.

"I left my number here…just here at the bottom," he explained to her, pointing to the paper as he handed it to her. Annie held the bill like it was the first time she'd seen one.

"Why?"

He beamed. "Well so that you'll have it. When you come to your senses and want me to take you out. Course," he quipped, bouncing slightly on the pleather seat of the booth. He said it like he was telling her water is wet. Like, of course he was going to take her out when she called. Of course.

I leaned forward and gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for him, by the way. He just…there's not much I can do," I whispered up at Annie, only half joking.

She cracked a smile and gave a little shrug before looking back at Finnick who was beaming up at her like an expectant golden retriever.

"I don't….date guys like you," she announced slowly, her eyes flicking back to the check.

Finnick feigned horror. "Wha…guys like…guys like me? Well then love, what kind of guys do you date?" he asked.

Annie gave me a little smile. "Nice ones. Like your friend here. I'd date him," she laughed. I guessed she was just saying this to mess with Finnick, but I was game to play along. Sometimes Finnick needed to be knocked back a few notches by someone other than me or the police. A pretty girl would do the trick.

"And why would you date Peeta?"

"Peeta?" she asked, clearly pausing at my strange name. "Uhm….well, I'd date him because he's polite, and quiet, like me, and…"

"But two quiet people on a date is no fun. You'd just be sitting there all evening staring at each other, filling the horrible silence with some occasional mindless chatter. It'd be awful. You need one person to be the spice."

"So I'm boring?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. I shook my head and snickered. Annie was losing her patience with Finnick; I could feel it.

"No, I mean…well you…it's just to say that I would be the better option because we're so….I mean you're…"

I had to laugh. Finnick was bombing here and I wasn't going to do a thing to save him.

"Wow," Annie muttered, shaking her head. She looked to me and all I could do was give her a helpless shrug.

"I don't know what to say," I admitted. "He's actually speechless for once."

This made Finnick burst. "You can't date him! He's…he's spoken for anyhow; he's got a girl on his mind and his heart it clearly spoken for so I am…the only option. You'd have to date me. Peeta's in love with another girl," he finally spat, his face red from the effort. He spouted the words a million miles a minute, shaking his head furiously. "Hopelessly heartsick over a girl he's just met. It's true love; she's his soul mate and you can't mess with that, can you?"

Annie's eyes flew to me. "You are? That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard," she cooed, her demeanor instantly shifting from frosty to nice. I tried not to acknowledge Finnick pitching a fit across the booth.

"Yeah, but…I don't even know her name. She came into my dad's shop and I saw her and I just….knew," I explained over the sound of his indignant huffs. Annie put her hand over her heart and gave me a sympathetic 'aw' face.

"So you've never even spoken to her?"

"I have, but….never the right thing to get her to….I mean, I'm not dating her yet, so I obviously haven't said the right thing to get to that point. We talk and laugh and she's just…so easy to talk to. I want to ask her for just…her last name but I wimp out every time. But I know I have to the next time I see her. I have to know if she feels the same….just like connection when we talk, you know? Have you ever met someone and you just….connected with them instantly? You click?"

I somewhat regretted pouring my heart out to the poor girl I barely knew, but Annie sighed dreamily.

"That is like something out of a movie. That is the sweetest thing I've ever…oh gosh, I hope you find her again and tell her how you feel. The whole thing is just so romantic."

I thought Finnick's eyes would pop out of his head.

"So wait, he muffs out and can't even tell the poor girl how he feels, yet I give you my number and you won't even give me the time of day? Unbelievable. Nonsense," he muttered, shaking his head. I chuckled.

"Easy Finnick. But no, I haven't told her how I feel. Do you think I should say something? If I see her again?" I asked Annie. Licking my lips, I eyed my best friend across the table, motioning to him. I had to throw him a bone or I was the world's shittiest wingman.

"I mean, Finnick here thinks I should just….tell her how I feel. Go for it, you know? No regrets? He doesn't think I'll be able to live with myself if I don't say something to her. He thinks my heart would just…be broken with sadness if I didn't tell this girl that I have to know her," I sighed pitifully.

Finnick's' eyes glinted with interest before Annie turned to look at him.

"That's…that's really sweet of you to say that to him. Is that how you really feel?"

His eyebrows shot up; I grinned wickedly when Annie wasn't watching.

"Y-yes, I do," he sputtered. "I think Peeta here is just a standup kinda guy. Any girl would be lucky to have him. Love him. Have him fawn all over them. He's not single because he's flawed; he's just looking for the other half of his heart, that's all. And this Katniss girl…" he tossed in a pitiful sigh for effect. "This Katniss girl could have just what he's looking for. If she's anything like he described…she's his soul mate. And even if she isn't his soul mate, well….shouldn't he at least try his damn hardest to find that out for himself?"

I had to hand it to him; he spouted off the tale of my twisted, pathetic love life like it was an Elizabethan sonnet. I could tell Annie didn't tolerate a lot of crap, but the crap Finnick was spinning was cleverly disguised as a brotherly concern for my so-called 'soul mate search.' But, telling from the look of dreamy approval slowly creeping onto Annie's face, it had worked.

Now I just had to figure out how to do the same thing to Katniss the next time we met. Whenever that would be.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 6

After a decent (and entertaining) breakfast with Finnick and nap, I decided not to fully waste the day. I showered and shaved before throwing on some clean clothes and heading down to my father's bakery on the off chance that Katniss might show up in search of some baked goods on a beautiful afternoon such as that one. I realized I had high hopes, but I was a man on a mission now: meet Katniss, win her over, and make her mine.

Easier said than done, apparently. If I did manage to see her again, I would have to eventually grow a pair large enough to muster the courage to talk to her and maybe even ask her out. But baby steps. I would at least talk to her first. And it would be more than the stupid, silly banter we'd had in the past. I'd ask her real things this time, I planned.

My father looked up in surprise as I ambled through the front door, the bell chiming to announce my arrival. He was just finishing up with some customers as I ducked below the counter to join him.

"What gives?" he grinned, holding his hands out. "It's your day off."

I shrugged and shook my head, unwilling to let him know I was there in hopes of seeing a girl. "I figure you're gonna retire in what, a year? Only got so much time to learn the trade secrets."

The answering twinkle in his eye let me know he was on to my bullshit as I followed him back to the kitchen. He stuck his hand in the pile of flour on the mixing board in front of him and tipped his face down so that his glasses slid down his nose.

"Well son, this is flour. We use it to make the bread. We mix it with yeast and other things and then roll it into dough…then trot it over to this big machine that mixes it-"

I cut him off with a loud burst of laughter. My old man never failed when it came to getting me to laugh. "Fine, fine, I guess I'm transparent. I came down maybe…hoping that girl would stop by."

"Ah, the girl with the braid. Kathy? Erm…what was it?"

"Katniss," I answered smugly, tossing him a self-assured look. "It's Katniss."

My father pushed his glasses up his slightly sweaty nose and shook his head. "You were out with Finnick last night?"

"Yup."

"You always reach some big epiphany after a night out with that kid. What did he manage talk you into this time?"

I shrugged, trying to look innocent as I hopped up onto the counter by the door to sit. I guess my longtime friend had a history of talking me into things I wouldn't normally do and everyone knew it.

"Just…he thinks I should talk to her if…when I see her again," I answered. "Grow a pair and ask her out."

My father shrugged, his mouth twisting in that way that told me something was slightly amiss.

"What?" I asked.

"Well, Finnick's' pep talk will hopefully last you a few more days. While I agree with him that you should…erm, grow a pair….she was already in today. You missed her, pal."

I felt my insides turnover as my stomach seemed to fall to my feet. I'd missed her? I'd spent all fucking morning talking about how I was going to find her again and somehow get her to like me and I'd missed her?

I slid off the counter where I sat and gave my father a pleading look as he wiped his hands on his apron. His face slipped into a worried look. It was as if he knew how much I already had my heart set on this girl and knew how much it would rip me apart to know that I'd missed another chance to talk to her.

"She was in earlier. She-"

"Wait, how long ago?" I demanded, perking up. Maybe she was close enough to catch? Or follow? Shit, that even sounded creepy in my head.

"About an hour," he replied sadly, shaking his head. He went back to the recipe he was mixing up, his jaw hard. "I'm sorry son. I told her today was your day off and she seemed…"

"What?" I asked quickly, hovering over him as he worked. His hands paused, his thick fingers sinking into the small batch of sticky dough seeping through his open fingers. The normally comforting smell of yeast and flour was slowly making me feel sick.

"She asked what days you worked. I said everyday but today. She seemed disappointed that she'd missed you," he recited, dutifully listing off the facts he knew. I could tell he was trying to disclose as much as he could remember for my benefit, but I still felt slightly sick to my stomach. She'd been here – she'd been here asking about me – and I wasn't here. I'd missed yet another chance. If Finnick ever found out that I'd missed another shot at talking to the girl I'd been babbling about he'd kick my ass in an instant.

"What did she say?"

"She didn't say anything, just that she wanted some bagels and more of that French bread…said she comes to this end of town to visit someone and…." He paused again, seeming to search through the memory in his head for any detail I might want.

While I was still utterly crushed that I'd missed her appearance, I was at least relieved to know that she'd cared even a fraction about me. I mean, would most girls ask about a guy's work schedule if they didn't care about him? Or were at least minutely interested in? She probably only asked because you're the one who tries to push free bread and pastries on her when she's here, my mind chided. No, my illogical side argued back. She hadn't wanted anything for free; she'd insisted on paying that first day when I tried to give her something on the house.

I stood in the middle of the kitchen as my father mixed dough, contemplating my own internal argument. Back in high school I could remember girls coming in to flirt with my brothers and get free cupcakes after class. All three of us were subjected to after school jobs at the bakery back then, and it wasn't uncommon for a classmate to come in. Girls would smile and flirt and toss their hair in hopes of getting free sweets, and lord knows it worked on my brothers. But I didn't get that vibe from Katniss. At all.

"Son, she's been in three times in a matter of a couple of weeks. She's coming back. I can tell you're beating yourself up about it…."

"No, dad, I'm not. I'm just…. It sucks that I missed her, that's all. I dunno," I shrugged, shaking my head. I was mainly shaking it at myself for missing her, even though I couldn't have known she would come in to the bakery on my day off. Ambling over to the counter where he worked, I heaved a sigh.

"What are you making now?"

My father shot me another sympathetic look.

"I'm trying to master the pretzel bun. Here, come help me," he insisted, reaching over to a hook beside the door. He tossed me a starched white apron with an expectant look.

"Why are you trying to master the pretzel bun?"

He shrugged. "People seem to like them. Keep seeing ads with them, figure it might be a good thing to sell. People can buy them, make sandwiches. Yuppies love stuff like that, Peet."

I bit back a smile at my father's simplistic marketing tactic and picked up the recipe for the pretzel buns. He'd handwritten it on a piece of scratch paper, the practically illegible slant of my father's handwriting staring up at me from the paper.

"If you make pretzel buns you should do sandwiches," I offered.

He paused, shrugging. "I don't have the room here to do that kind of thing. Always wanted to, but….never the room."

"You wanted to serve more types of food here? I didn't know that."

My father shrugged slightly, kneading the dough against the floured board. "I did, when I was younger," he joked. "I wanted to do fancy soups and sandwiches. Make this place a bakery in the mornings and a café for lunch and dinner. But…that was a long time ago. I'd never have the energy to do that now."

"Dad," I argued, "That's what I've always thought we should do. People would go nuts for something like that if we did it."

"Well, like I said – that was an idea a long time ago. Don't exactly have the energy to do that now that I'm a year away from retiring. I'd have to store meat and cheese and….it would be nice, but just can't manage it," he relented.

Wrinkling my nose, I silently agreed with him. The familiar bakery that my family owned since before I was born was like a second home to me. It was small, quaint, and obscenely outdated. Our ovens were too small, there was hardly any convenient storage, and we only started taking credit and debit cards within the last six months. But, we still did killer business. Most mornings we were almost sold out of almost everything by barely eight. People loved Mellark bread in this town, and I hoped that would never change. I would inherit the business when my father retired, along with all of the coveted family recipes and Mellark Bakery title.

"Maybe you could do it," he suggested. "When this place is yours."

My mouth twitched into a little smile. "Yeah, maybe I could. But for now, I need to learn how to make pretzel buns. One step at a time old man."

He shot me a little sideways grin as he worked, his jaw clenching with the effort he was putting into it. Stepping closer to the counter, I tied the apron around my waist and quickly washed my hands. Letting my eyes skim over the recipe one more time, I offered my two cents.

"You should do an egg wash on these. Bet it would help them brown."

He shot me a surprised look before nodding. "Yeah. Bet it would."

We exchanged a knowing grin. We both loved to tweak and tamper with recipes, never afraid to try something new. I guess some things never changed.

My eyes shifted over to where he mixed the dough by hand, his gnarled fingers working it into submission. The swollen joints of his fingers stuck out against the dough. He had arthritis – bad. Years of mixing dough by hand – over and over and over – had taken its toll on his body. My father had thrown his heart and soul and body into making bread for this town and it showed. His business had thrived and supported our family, but not without a price. The lines on his face and they grey in his hair increased by the year. He didn't have long. Soon, I knew I would be taking over the family business for him. Maybe it wasn't the best time for me to be obsessing over a girl anyway.


	50. Chapter 50

Peeta POV – Chapter 7

I spent every day at the bakery after that.

I was growing accustomed to the idea that I would spend the rest of my life elbow deep in flour and pretzel rolls in the hopes that I'd see her again, but thankfully it didn't come to that.

She showed up on day three.

The door was propped open, so the bell didn't sound when she walked in. I was sitting behind the counter, draped over my father's books, the ancient looking ledger written in his chicken-scratch scrawl making my head spin slightly. I needed to first figure out his system of keeping track of the income and bakery funds before I took over, but the old man was painfully outdated and behind on the times. Katniss gliding into the bakery was a welcomed relief to my increasingly annoying headache.

"Hey," she breathed, making me look up.

If the look of surprise on my face wasn't enough to scare her off, what I stupidly uttered next certainly might have been.

"There's my favorite baker," she laughed in her slightly raspy, slightly cute-as-hell voice. She was the picture of casual beauty with her minimal makeup, messy braid, and summery cotton dress. I felt my mouth go dry the instant I saw her.

"Well there's my favorite…ah, person who buys bagels sometimes?" I answered with an overly eager laugh. I winced at the noise and sheer pathetic-ness of my words as she gave me a little frown that said 'really?' before shrugging

"I missed you the other day. Had to buy my bagels from your dad, you weren't here. Skipping out on me?"

She missed you, Peeta, an ugly little voice in my head sang. I brushed it aside. I had to at least appear normal.

"Yeah, my one day off," I shrugged, brushing my hair out of my eyes. I looked down at my wrinkled khakis and flour-dusted t-shirt, silently cursing myself for not making more of an effort. Half the time I was so eager to get down to the bakery that I forgot to not look like a helpless bachelor in the process.

"You work a lot?"

"Yeah, everyday cept that one. But I'm going to be here more often than not now, what with my dad retiring soon. Have to take every second I can to learn the business."

"Oh," she nodded, "he told me that the other today. That you'd be inheriting this place soon. That's awesome," she smiled.

"Well, I mean…it's just a bakery. Not the most 'awesome' thing I could do with my life, but…."

Katniss leaned on the glass counter, her eyes scanning the array of pastries and breads neatly arranged on their trays. "Do you love to bake?"

I gave her a sheepish smile before nodding. "I do, yeah. I love it. Feels strange to admit I love to bake cupcakes and stuff, but…I do love to decorate them."

"Well at least you're doing something you love!" she exclaimed, giving me one of her heart-stopping smiles. For a girl that seemed almost stern and serious at first, she seemed to be able to easily light up a room with barely even trying.

"I like it, I mean…most days go by pretty quickly when I'm working."

She shrugged again. "Then yeah, that's pretty awesome. Eh…I wish I had a clue what I wanted to do with my life. At least you know, and you're good at something."

"You don't know what you want to be when you grow up?" I asked, giving her my best charming smile.

She shook her head, scratching the spot behind her braid. She was wearing a floor length dress that showed off the tops of her slightly pink shoulders and toned, tan arms. The woven belt wrapped around her waist emphasized her shapely curves, the swell of her hips making her look womanly and strong. Her braid was extra loose that day, hanging over her shoulder with a few free waves framing her bright face. I watched her debate my question as her grey eyes held mine, and in that moment I wondered how I could have even mistaken them for blue. They were the most unique, intense shade of steely metal I'd ever seen.

"No," she sighed. "I'm not…I mean I get decent grades. I'm in my last year of school and I just…nothing calls to me. I change my mind too often. I start one major and then before the semesters even up I just…"

"Change your mind?"

"Yeah."

"Nothing wrong with that. Sometimes I wake up and want to decorate wedding cakes all day, then next thing I know I….I'm doing some crazy cooking experiment," I offered meekly. Ulgh, why did everything I say around her come out all lame and stupid? Whatever it was about this girl that didn't allow me to think before I opened my mouth and offered up something completely idiotic was beyond me. I twisted the pencil I was holding through my fingers, resisting the urge to babble on about something else.

"That's not stupid. I think it just means you're creative. Creative people have a hard time finishing up or following through because their minds are just constantly going, moving, thinking. I duno, I just wish I could figure something out."

I grinned. "Well, what are you good at? I've obviously got baking, but…what about you, Katniss? What are you good at?"

She grinned back at me, making my heart stutter in my chest. She gripped the bag slung over her shoulder a moment before plunking it down on a chair in the empty bakery. She perched on the table top and looked around, shrugging a bit sheepishly.

"Nothing…"

"Oh come on…everyone has one talent. Maybe you can take that and turn it into something. Come on, shoot. What are you good at? Hobbies?"

Good, I told myself. This would be a good way to get to know her without coming off completely like a nosy creep.

"Don't laugh," she forewarned.

"Never," I swore, placing my hand over my heart. I wouldn't laugh; I was dying to know more – anything more – about this girl. She was beautiful, easy to talk to, and she made me feel nervous and giddy yet like I'd known her for ten years all at the same time. I wouldn't dare laugh at anything she told me. A girl like Katniss didn't come around every day.

"Well…I'm good with a bow."

"Like…wrapping? Wrapping paper?" I asked, blurting out the first thing that came into my mind.

She chuckled, shaking her head. "No, um…like a hunting bow. Shooting, you know?"

I shrugged. "I won't say I'm not surprised to learn that you're good with a weapon, but…that's certainly not stupid. Everyone has a talent or hobby that's their guilty pleasure."

"Oh, I seem like the type to know my way around a weapon?" she teased lightly, toying with the end of her braid. She leaned over, resting her elbows on her knees and in the process allowed me a glimpse of her cleavage. I coughed, looking away despite my body's pleas not to. It had been a long time since I'd gotten any, and I was like a horny twelve year old with his mother's Victoria's Secret Catalog. It took very little to get me excited these days. Especially now that a dark-haired vixen was gracing my dirty little late night fantasies.

"Um, no, no, you just….seem capable. Confident, like…uhm," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Like you could do just about anything. You could have told me you're into spelunking or like….deep sea fishing and I would have believed you."

Katniss grinned. "Most people think the bow thing is really weird."

"No, it's….unique. Hey, I mean…if the zombie apocalypse happens at least you'll be prepared. I can like…launch cupcakes and bagels at them, that'll be my only defense."

"If the zombie apocalypqse happens, come find me. I've got us covered with my bow," she chuckled.

"It's a kick ass hobby."

She nodded, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears. "Well, it's definitely my favorite thing to do. I love to hunt and shoot and just…be in the woods. But I can't exactly make a career out of that, can I?"

"Well…depends," I admitted. "What made you decide to learn how to hunt?"

"My dad," she explained. "He loves to hunt and things like that, so he taught me when I was little. It started out that I just wanted to tag along with him or whatever. I was always a little tomboy, the son he never had I guess. But it's just our thing we do together."

I offered her a smile. "How do you think I learned to bake? My older brothers went off after school and got real jobs and I just…make cupcakes all day now," I snorted. "Everyone has their thing, Katniss."

She nodded. "I guess you're right. Everyone has their thing."

Before we knew it, an hour had flown by. When she looked at her phone, her eyes widened and she jumped. "Holy shit, I was supposed to be at Prim's to pick her up an hour ago! Shit, shit…hey, I'll see you later okay?"

I waved at her as she grabbed her bag of bagels, stuffing the last of one into her mouth. She'd caved and had one with me, dutifully offering to try out a new type of apple butter I was testing out when she looked at her phone to check the time.

"I'll be back soon! Catch you later, Peeta!" she called over her shoulder as she hurried out.

I called out goodbye before waving her off, chuckling to myself. I hadn't asked her out that day, which was true. But….I didn't think that was a bad thing anymore. We'd spent an hour lost in conversation about the most wonderfully random things, and wasn't that always the best type of conversation when you first met someone? Instead of feeling panicky that I hadn't made things inevitably awkward and asked her on a date she had a fifty/fifty chance of turning me down on, I felt like I'd laid the foundation for something much more important that day. Having her leave without nailing down a date didn't scare me for once. We'd connected, and wasn't that what this whole thing was about?

I knew, without a doubt that she would be back.


	51. Chapter 51

Peeta's POV – Chapter 8

"And why do you think you're the best person for the job?"

"Um…"

I leaned back in my chair and tried to do my best to not look intimidating. Not that I was a scary looking guy, but it was clearly this poor girl's first interview ever.

The little girl in front of me shook like a leaf as she chewed the inside of her lip and tried her best to think of a good answer.

"I would…be here on time every day. And I would do my best to make the customers happy?" she half asked, half stated.

Well, at least she sounded honest.

I tried not to grin. A few kids had applied for the part time job when I'd posted the sign in the window, but Rue stuck out. She was kind, smart, and just timid enough to not be a cocky little shit behind the counter. I felt like I could trust her. She'd won me over when she'd politely said 'please' when asking for an application. She was going to get the job as the part time bakery assistant, but I felt the need to put her through the process anyhow. Learning to make your way through an interview was an important skill, and I wasn't going to overlook it. Especially for someone as shy as her. Kids needed skills. Even though she was fifteen and able to legally work, she looked to be about twelve or thirteen. Her small frame and twiggy arms would keep her from doing any heavy lifting or mixing, but I could use a friendly face to help me greet customers and ring people up.

"Good. What days are you available?"

She chewed her lip again and did her best to smile. "Umm…I mean, I'm available any day but Tuesdays…I have church choir on Tuesday nights," she mumbled.

I heard her mother shift in her chair a few tables away. The bakery was nearly empty that day, so it was rather obvious that this poor girl's mother was eavesdropping on our interview. I didn't mind though – my dad would have done the same thing to me when I was fifteen, and this girl didn't look like she was too happy about it. I certainly understood a slightly overbearing parent that meant well.

"Fine, fine….But you think you can wake up early on Saturdays? Four a.m. doesn't look pretty sometimes," I warned her honestly.

She nodded, blinking her doe-like eyes. "I can do it."

I gave her a grin. "Alright. You got the job. Can you start tomorrow?"

She smiled widely back at me, nodding her little head. I shook her small hand with mine and turned to look at her mother. "As if I wouldn't have given her the job with you sitting right there."

The woman chuckled, shaking her head. "How did you know I was with her?"

I shrugged at the empty bakery. "You've been sitting there with a cup of coffee and an untouched cinnamon roll for twenty minutes, and you'd hold your breath every time I asked a question."

"Mom," Rue whined, giving her mother an exasperated look. The pair exchanged a rather sassy look that made me chuckle.

"Oh calm yourself; I was just making sure you did alright. Now tell Mr. Mellark 'thank you' and let's go. We need to get you some nice work clothes."

"Oh, just a clean pair of khakis and some white t-shirts are fine," I told her. "I'll give her an apron, but that's all she needs."

Rue nodded excitedly, glancing around the bakery. "I love to bake," she sighed. "It smells like heaven in here."

I laughed. "Well, I've been baking here for over twenty years and I still love the smell. I guess that says something, doesn't it?"

I had Rue sign a few new hire pieces of paperwork as I refilled her mother's coffee. She would start training the next day with my other part time guy, a slightly older kid named Thresh. They both seemed nice and quiet; I hoped they'd get along well enough.

"Thank you for giving her a chance, Mr. Mellark. She's been dyin for a job for some time now but it's so hard to get that first one."

"Call me Peeta. And no worries, I know how it is. I just need some help with things around here and I think Rue will do great. She'll learn how to work a cash register, do inventory, order supplies, talk to customers. A lot of it will look good on a resume and college applications, that kinda stuff."

"We sure do appreciate it," her mother cooed. "I'm Cora, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. Well-,"

I was cut off by Cora's sudden gasp. I turned, following her eyes to the small television behind the counter. The warped screen of the tiny tv was hard to read, but I could see enough of the headline to make my stomach turn. I reached across the counter and cranked up the dial. Soon the news reporter's voice was echoing in the empty bakery as she narrated the gruesome scene.

"If you're just tuning in, we're watching a breaking news story unfold. A mine just outside of District Twelve has just exploded, leaving a harrowing scene in its wake. As you can see behind me, there are swarms of ambulances and fire trucks pour into the mine's entrances. We're being told that as many as twenty miners were inside the tunnels at the time of the blast. It's unknown at this time if there any survivors."

The three of us watched in horrified silence as the news helicopter circled around the mountainside, the camera struggling to focus through the black smoke that was billowing from the tunnels. Men, trucks, and ambulances were everywhere on the ground below, and the mountainside looked as though it was reduced to dust. I felt my insides turn over as I thought about the men trapped inside that mountain. That had to be a horrible way to go. I hung my head and said a silent prayer that the men were all okay, tucked safely back into the mine. I wasn't a particularly religious man, but whatever would help I suppose.

After a while, Cora gave a shaky goodbye and led Rue towards the front door.

"See you tomorrow, bright and early," I called after her.

She gave me one last grin before turning and heading out. The bell on the door rang out after them, leaving me with nothing but the television. I turned and leaned against the counter, watching as the chaos unfolded in front of me. I watched the same few clips over and over and over until I had to turn and flip the switch to turn it off. A small community like this was sure to be rocked to the core with a tragedy like this. We weren't a small town by any means, but it was close knit. Small business like ours were supported and most people here knew each other. The thought of someone I knew being trapped in a mine to die made me sick to my stomach.

Shaking my head, I turned back to my work of balancing the shop's checkbook before I was supposed to take lunch. My dad would be coming in soon – I was covering more and more early mornings for him as he neared retirement. I knew I had to buckle down and really learn the business, but that didn't stop me from enjoying the right distractions when they came along.

Katniss.

Her name was like honey on my lips – smooth, familiar, and intoxicating. She'd been coming in once a week or so for the past month, and we'd been getting friendlier and friendly with each visit. Each time she came, she'd stay a little longer than the last. I'd stuck to my guns though – I hadn't tried to hit on her or ask her out yet, and I was fine with that. We were getting to know each other and I wasn't just another smarmy guy trying to get into her pants. I liked where we were and the pace we'd set on our friendship. At this rate when I finally did ask her out, we'd be able to spend our first date talking and laughing and having a genuinely good time rather than fumbling through an awkward set of twenty questions over a moderately priced meal. Out of the two, who do you think she'd go on a second date with – the friend she'd laughed with and possibly seen something more in, or the awkward almost blind-date feeling guy?

It was a no brainer.

I planned to ask her on a date the next time I saw her and that was that. I'd taken my time, I'd laid the ground work, and I'd won her over. I could tell by the way her silvery eyes would shine and her rose colored lips would turn upwards into a smile when she talked to me. Yes, we were almost there.

The next time she came in, I was finally ready to take that next step.


	52. Chapter 52

Peeta's POV – Chapter 9

"Dude, you need to give it up. She's not coming back."

I sighed, running a hand through my already disheveled hair. Finnick tried his best to bite back a smile.

"You got some flour there…"

I shot him a dark look. "I don't need this right now."

Finnick hopped up on the counter, shooting me a pleading look. I was prepping the dough for the next day's work and working late. Again. Finnick was here yet again, begging me to give up on Katniss and move on. I knew he was right – I should move on after so long.

It had been two months since I'd seen her.

I'd made up my mind to ask her out and suddenly…she disappeared. I was left feeling lost and hopeless. What was I supposed to do? I'd tried to forget about her. I was young and had my entire life ahead of me…so why did I keep picturing the rest of it with her in it?

I wiped my hands on my apron and avoided his eyes. I knew he was right – I needed to forget about the girl I barely knew and move on with my life. I guess I would actually have to get a life first. I'd thrown myself into my work, relentlessly dedicating every waking hour to learning the business. My father was slowly stepping down and handing me more and more responsibilities, so I at least had an outlet for my frustration. But other than work and sleep and working on the loft, I had nothing else going for me. I was just starting out and already I felt like I'd reached a dead end.

"What do you want me to do, Finn?"

He leaned back against the cabinets, crossing his arms. "Let me set you up. Maybe Annie knows someone."

I laughed a little, shaking my head. "I think you have enough trouble trying to get Annie to go out with you, much less asking her for a girl for one of your friends. Has she even let you take her to dinner yet?"

"Nah, not yet. But she's starting to crack. Swear," he grinned. Annie was giving him a hell of a time- poor Finnick had tried just about every pick up line and trick in the book to get her to even give him her phone number. Consistently leaving his various methods of contact on every napkin and receipt she gave him at the diner every other day had proved fruitless so far. But, his dedication was admirable if not slightly stalkerish. I hoped Annie would give him a chance soon.

"Just let me ask her. Maybe she knows a girl that could help you take your mind off of Katniss. What better way to distract yourself from one girl by getting balls deep into another? Besides, I bet the second you stop looking for her, she'll show up."

I rolled my eyes as I peeled my damp, flour caked apron off my chest and balled it up. I tossed it into the hamper in the corner and chuckled at him. "I'm not looking for her, Finn."

He eyed me as if to say 'yeah right'.

I didn't argue – I knew he was right. Every time I was out in a crowd, on the street, in a bar, at the gym…I was doing double takes at every brunette I saw. Finnick knew it, too. This was torture, and I knew I was doing it to myself.

"Fine. Set me up. But this is a mistake."

"I have every confidence that it's not. Just don't…don't compare every girl you meet to Katniss, alright? Peet, you didn't even really know the girl. Don't let her ruin something that could be really great based on a 'what if' feeling, ya know?"

1 month later

I stared into my beer mug, silently praying that the fizzing liquid would spark something in my mind – anything, really, that might help me think of something to say. My eyes caught hers over the grease stained, frayed menus we were holding. I offered her a weak smile and tried to ignore the nerves fizzling in the pit of my stomach.

I was on a blind date with a girl and I could not think of one interesting thing to say to get this conversation going. So far we'd met, we'd ordered beers, and we'd exchanged names and occupations. Jackie was a physical therapist that was three years older than me and a friend of Annie's from yoga class. Sadly, that was the extent of my knowledge of this girl and also the extent of how much I cared to know.

All I really cared about was that the girl sitting across from me was not Katniss.

I took a nervous sip of my beer after she ordered a plate of fried cheese balls and I my favorite nachos from the menu. We were at one of my favorite dive bars; I figured if anything it was a little loud and the crowd was always interesting if nothing else. It was and old train car that had been added on to and turned into a bar on the edge of town years ago. The walls were covered in memorabilia, pictures, and even names of patrons from years past scribbled in permanent marker. The drinks were strong, the beer was cheap, and the jukebox in the corner didn't have any songs on it past the year I was born. It was one of my favorite bars in the entire town, but Jackie didn't seem very impressed.

I nervously took a handful of the greasy salted popcorn that sat on the table, chewing slowly as she looked around.

"So uh…what do you think of this place?"

She raised an eyebrow and scanned the room again. I followed her gaze and almost did a double take at a brunette girl in the corner. It wasn't Katniss. I sighed and took a long drag of my beer.

"It's…interesting. Do you come here a lot?"

"Yeah, I kinda like that it's kinda off the beaten path, older…I like the dive bar feel. Like stepping into a time warp."

"Definitely," she agreed quietly.

Before I knew it, we'd politely bullshitted our way through our first beers and were ordering seconds. Jackie was nice, but reserved and a bit quiet. I found myself doing most of the asking but paying next to no attention to her answers. I could only hope I could gimp my way through the rest of the evening without making an ass of myself or insulting the poor girl.

"So what's your story?"

"My story?" I asked.

She nodded. "Annie didn't know much about you, other than you bake and you're nice," she offered meekly, giving me a timid smile.

"Oh, uh, how nice of Annie," I chuckled. "Well, um…I'm not terribly interesting. Annie wasn't leaving much out in that assessment. To be honest, I know Annie from coming into the diner a lot. My buddy Finnick has a massive crush on her and he's hoping she'll actually say yes when he asks her out someday."

Jackie smiled. "Well, she's close to caving, but don't tell him that."

"I would never," I laughed. "He needs to work for it. But um…I bake. I run a bakery with my dad. He's close to retiring, so I'm kinda…learning the ropes. Trying to take over, I guess. I spend like….seven days a week there, it's pretty sad."

She pressed her lips together as she listened. "Doesn't sound like you really have too much time for dates then."

I shrugged, trying my best to not lead this poor girl on. It was obvious we had zero chemistry and I was already checking out. I knew it wasn't fair to her, but my mind was still wishing she had silvery eyes and a long, dark braid thrown over one shoulder. She didn't though, and that was all I cared about.

"I…don't. I mean it's nice to get out of the place for a night, but…I guess not, no."

Jackie took a sip of her drink and stared across the table at me. I knew I was failing whatever silent assessment she was giving me, but I didn't have it in me to care. I shifted on my bar stool and looked around the room again. This time another brunette caught my eye.

Again, not Katniss.

"Who is she?"

I looked back at Jackie. "What?"

"Whoever it is you're looking for. It's a girl, right?"

I felt my jaw drop open awkwardly. "Umm…I'm not…looking for anyone."

She gave me a skeptical look as I twisted my half empty class in my hands. "Well…you keep looking around the room and every time the door opens you look at it like you're hoping someone will walk in. I just assumed it was a girl. Maybe an ex or something."

My stomach twisted itself until I was certain I would double over in misery. This girl had barley known me for an hour and even she could smell the desperation on me as I sat across from her. I was pathetic. I was so hung up on a girl that I barely knew that I was letting it get the best of me. I had been a mere passerby in my own life for months now, and I wasn't showing any sign of getting better. I needed to snap out of it and move on with my life while I still had a change. Katniss wasn't coming back – I needed to accept that fate had stepped in and made her disappear from my life for a reason, and I might never know what that reason was.

"No," I shook my head. "I'm not waiting for anyone."


	53. Chapter 53

Peeta POV Ch. 10

Time passed.

I don't know why I think of that as statement, but I do. When I think it in my head, I say it so matter of factly.

Time passed.

I guess I say it that way because I'm surprised it moved at all, maybe? To me, it stood still. Just…hanging out there. Just like my life. I was stalled and lost and felt like I'd missed out on something completely great when Katniss didn't come running back into my bakery, begging me to love her.

I know you're probably asking how I could be so caught up on a girl that I barely knew; well…I was asking myself the very same question.

But the moral of my rambling here is that she didn't come back and I had lost her.

And I needed to face that.

But knowing you needed to do something and then actually doing it is well….we all know those are two totally different things.

The summer that I came to know the girl with the braid and had a fleeting glimpse of what it was like to know her came and went. As the muggy, relentless summer days became longer and longer and faded into fall, well…I guess somewhere in there I slowly gave up on ever seeing her again. The days grew cold, just like my heart. I watched my life pass by and struggled to find my old self rattling around in the hollow thing I called a chest, but it was hard.

It was damn hard.

I was a romantic. Always had been, always probably would be. I had a horrible, girlish tendency to build things up in my head and view things with rose colored glasses and…it always seriously fucked me in the end.

In my mind, I stood still that entire summer, just watching events unfold. I can remember lying in bed at night, just picturing myself on the sidewalk in front of the bakery. All around me people blurred by in a bustle of activity, living life and carrying on. I pictured myself standing there, just standing there as the summer left and the leaves died and fell from the trees and the first snow fell and then melted and….and so on. You get what I mean. I just sat there and wallowed and was a mere passerby as I mourned my missed chance.

The day my father handed me the worn, polished master key to the bakery was what changed it for me.

The long winter had finally thawed sometime in mid-April, and the first brave bits of green were poking out of the gloomy backdrop. It was a rainy morning with fog still rolling down Main Street when he pressed the cool metal into my palm.

I remember looking up at him and expecting to see joy; joy that his son was carrying on the family business, happiness that I was starting my life, hope for the future…

But instead he was sad.

"Don't work yourself until you take all the love out of this business," he simply said, shaking his head. I gripped the key and watched him leave out the backdoor. I was left alone in the bakery, and alone in life.

And it was all my doing.

It was mid-spring before I'd had enough of myself. All around me I could feel people growing tired of my self pitying, moping ways. My father flourished in his retirement, taking up woodworking and drinking fancy coffees. Finnick had finally convinced Annie to move in with him, although it had taken her nearly four months to give up her apartment. My loft place was nearly finished after almost nine months of spending every Friday and Saturday night slaving away at it like a man possessed. Mellark's bakery was flourishing as well, as I spent almost every waking moment during the day baking and creating new things to sell.

I was at a ballgame with Finnick in May when it happened. I had fought him hard for the home run ball, elbows out and gut laughing after spilling my beer down the side of his leg. We laughed and had another drink, shrugging off our sunburns as we walked home afterwards.

"Want to go for another drink? Abernathy's has four dollar pitchers til eight," Finnick prodded halfheartedly. He expected me to bail. But instead, I didn't do what the half-alive me would have done. It happened.

"Yeah. Why the hell not?"

The words were barely out of my mouth when I realized it; I'd moved on. Just like that.

I watched his hand shake slightly as he held the pitcher under the spicket of amber liquid. Averting my eyes so he didn't catch me staring, I glanced over at Finnick.

"You can just ask me for it you know."

"Ask you for what?"

"The game ball. I know you wanted it."

"Fuck you," he spat, clobbering me in the shoulder. I guffawed loudly, the effects of about four too many beers hitting me harder than I remembered. But it felt good. I felt alive again. I was having fun again.

The bartender placed a pitcher in front of us, shaking his head as he looked around the bar.

"Dang girl. No fresh glasses this round boys, I'm backed up with the dishwashing," he explained, his red-rimmed eyes hard.

We both shrugged off the need for a fresh frosted mug with our new pitcher. "Don't matter," Finnick chuckled. "You scare away your help did you Haymitch?"

The bartender tossed his slightly greasy looking hair out of his eyes, shooting Finnick a hard look.

"I wish I could scare this one off. Dang girls been flightier than a damn bat lately."

"Which one?" Finnick asked. I shot him a look that said 'really? You have a girlfriend,' to which he just shot me a shit-eating grin. We both knew how hard he'd worked to get Annie to even give him a second look; he wasn't about to cheat on her for a random bartender.

"I happen to know every girl on this side of town," his voice dripped.

I caught Haymitch's eye before rolling my own and taking another long sip of my beer. I guess you really can't teach old dog new tricks, but whatever.

"Just a waitress I've had on and off for a while now. Tonight I guess she's off. Woulda preferred it if she told me, but….what do I know? I only own the freakin' bar!" he grumbled, his voice growing to a growl as he tossed a bar rag onto the floor. A few of his patrons jeered at him and raised their glasses, to which he shot them all a mockingly disgruntled look. He shook his head at the two of us and grabbed his own drink from behind the bar.

"To unpredictable women," he sighed, clinking his class with our beer mugs.

I chuckled and agreed. "Here here."

My mind started to flit back to the dark corners where the girl with the braid dwelled, but I didn't let it. Instead I took another long sip of my drink and promised to turn my pleasant buzz into something more. It had been awhile since I was rip-roaring drunk, so why the hell not?

Haymitch had owned Abernathy's Tap since he was old enough to step foot in it. A faded picture on the wall behind the bar showed me that the only thing that had changed about the inner décor were the labels on the bottles of liquor behind him and the increase in lines on his face. His bar was always pretty much regulars on the week nights, although they drew a decent college crowd from the other side of town on nickel draft night. As the clientele dwindled and Finnick lost interest in chit chat, I spent more and more time bending the older man's ear.

"Anyone you hire for part time help will prolly split on you during the school year. Busses don't come to this part of town and the college kids don't want to come this far to work all the time."

He was probably right – we'd been lucky enough at the bakery to not have to hire much help in the recent years, but I knew eventually I might need more hands than just Rue and Thresh. The college campus that was on the other side of town from us was probably a little further away than most people would be willing to drive for what I could afford to pay them, anyway.

"I can see that. That what happened to your waitress tonight?" I asked, spinning a quarter on the top of the bar.

Haymitch cast a glance down the nearly empty bar; shrugging as a slow blues song came on the ancient looking jukebox in the corner. Finnick was busying himself with drunkenly trying to beat the packman game next to the ATM machine. I knew he'd eventually want to go home to Annie, but I was actually enjoying myself for once. My blurry eyes tried and failed to focus on the amber bubbles of my draft beer as they fizzed and floated on the other side of the glass.

"Yeah. She'll be home for summer though. Girl's a hard worker; she'll make up for it. If I don't fire her ass first," he sniffed, shrugging helplessly. He swirled the ice in his glass and took a sip of the watery mixture that was left.

"Good help is hard to find," I chuckled. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm crazy."

"For what, boy?"

"Taking over the bakery. But it's just….my passion," I slurred. I was drunk and I knew it, but I didn't care. "I fucking love baking. How could working with something that makes me so…I don't know, passionate…be bad?"

Haymitch uncorked a bottled of whatever brown liquid he was drinking and sloshed a little more into his glass. "Amen to that," he said slowly, his ruddy cheeks turning up into a grin.

I chuckled and clinked my glass with his before taking another long drink. I was out, I was enjoying myself, and I was moving on. Barely, but…at least I was moving.


	54. Chapter 54

Peeta POV Ch. 11

I'll always remember it: it was that first day of spring that was so warm it made everything with leaves just pop open and rejoice in the fact that winter was finally over. The trees were flowering, the windows were open, and the days were so long and sun-filled and pretty it made my early baker's bedtime seem like a crying shame.

I'll always remember that day because it was the day she walked back into my life.

For good this time.

I was sweeping out the shop, mourning the fact that I could no longer skip out on a beautiful day like today and take the afternoon off. The shop was empty and people were outside enjoying the spring after a particularly long, nasty winter. I wanted to join them, but no…I was the owner now. I had to be responsible. I heaved a sigh and brushed the broom backwards in a semi-circle, scooping up the bits of dust and debris. I didn't hear her come in because the door was propped open – just like that first day.

But I looked up, the movement of her quiet walk drawing my eye in the deserted shop.

And there she was.

"Katniss?" I blurted out before thinking.

Her dark eyebrows rose up in surprise. She didn't honestly expect me to forget her name, did she?

"You remember me?" she asked, her voice just as raspy and beautiful as I remembered. My eyes scanned her as nonchalantly as they could, quickly cataloging every detail they could gather in the split second they were allowed to roam over her. Her hair was different – shorter, with a few lines of blonde in the front. She had bangs now that were also streaked with the color of honey, bringing out the slight tan already covering her bare arms. She stood before me in a long, flowing skirt and tank top, a stylish necklace hanging from her neck and a rather ostentatious bag on her arm. I studied (okay, gaped) at her for a moment, drinking in every single change and detail about her that I could.

Something about her was….off. I felt like a starving man taking in a feast, don't get me wrong – my eyes had missed something that pretty and it was a strange relief to see her standing in front of me again. But she was…different.

She shifted her weight, her tongue gliding over her lips nervously. "I….gosh, it's been forever. How…how have you been, Peeta?"

A small surge of satisfaction flowed through my veins as her name casually rolled off her tongue like I was an old friend. I felt like I was being thawed after the miserable winter I'd spent, wondering where she'd gone.

"I'm…I'm great. Thought I'd lost my best bagel customer," I replied lamely.

Katniss laughed, the sound echoing in the empty shop. I leaned on the broom, half for something to do with my hands, and half to keep from falling over in shock. She grinned at me, shaking her head as she chuckled.

"Never."

"What…what kept you?" I asked with a nervous laugh.

I had to know.

She shrugged, shifting the expensive looking bag from one hand to the other. She looked different…good, but at the same time…not herself. Now, I was certain the girl in front of me could make a paper sack look good and work for her, but at the same time I couldn't help but notice the changes in her.

The slightly sallow look to her cheeks.

The way her collar bone stuck out just a little too much.

The way her grey eyes didn't seem to sparkle.

The way her smile didn't quite convince me.

They were all little things, but they added up.

"I've been….um, just around. I….stuff went down with my family and just…"

Holding up my hand, it took ever once of self-restraint I had to utter my next words.

"Say no more, I…know how that can be." I wanted to know, but there was nothing worse than a nosy freak. I swallowed, nervously walking around to the counter. Taking my place on the other side of the wood partition, I gave her my best honest, non-creepy smile.

"It's good to see you. I'm glad you came back."

She chewed the insides of her cheeks a moment, nodding. "Yeah, well…it's my sister's last day of school, so I thought I'd…meet up with her for a picnic of sorts. Talk about some stuff."

"You have a sister?" I asked before thinking.

She bobbed her head, her eyes averting mine. Had I said something wrong? Did my nosey-ness offend her somehow? As sick as it was, my mind started conjuring up the picture of Katniss walking through the woods with a slightly younger, smaller version of herself. Someone with dark waves, olive skin, and the same haunting grey eyes as Katniss. Had I even seen her sister once and not known it? I pushed the slightly obsessive thought from my mind and tried to forget and not fixate. I had to move on and stop it with this girl. It wasn't healthy.

But still…I found myself hanging on every word she said.

"Yeah, uh…Prim. Primrose," she shrugged, giving me a slightly crooked smile. "I guess my parents had a thing for botany back in the day. But yeah, uhm….we don't always see eye to eye."

"Do any siblings always see eye to eye? I have two older brothers and I definitely don't always agree with them."

Katniss nodded, shrugging slightly. "Well, we used to be really close, but…she's grown up now and I'm no longer her idol. I'm more of a bother to her. She thinks I tell her what to do, that I'm…bossy, I guess. I just kinda….want to give her advice about stuff. Her boyfriend doesn't want her to go to college when she graduates in a year and I just…don't see how that could be a good thing."

"Are you still in school?" I asked. "You said last time you…uh….changed your major."

A sad look flickered behind her eyes for a moment before she visibly blinked it away. "No, I uh….took a year off. It's…I had some stuff that I needed to deal with and I couldn't handle it. I should have stayed in though, going back is tough," she sighed slowly. "If I ever do."

My mind started working overtime, creating one hellish scenario after another to come up with a reason why Katniss would have quit college. Did she have some sort of rare illness? Did she somehow lose all of her money in a fluke accident? Did someone close to her go to jail or die? Shit, I needed to stop thinking about these things. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tried to not look like I was hanging on her every word. Instead, I faked a polite interest that any other acquaintance would have.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But…I'm sure you can always go back. It might be tough, but….you of all people could do it, Katniss."

The corner of her mouth twitched slightly upwards.

"What makes you say that?" she asked quietly. Reaching up, she brushed her lighter bangs out of her eyes and shot me an inquisitive look with her striking eyes.

Damn. I still kicked myself for thinking they were blue that first day.

"Well...you're tough. Or you seem…tough. Like you could handle just about anything. And I know this from the like, eight times I've seen you buy bagels," I joked.

She almost smiled. "Right, well….I would like to go back someday, I just…have a lot on my plate right now."

As in no time for you, I thought to myself. I gripped the back of the counter.

"So….you're meeting your sister Prim to try to talk her into staying in school? That's very big sistery of you."

"I guess," she shrugged, her thin shoulders drawing my eye. What had made her lose weight? She was perfect when I met her. I hated it when beautiful, curvy women cut out their favorite foods to look like sticks and have their hip bones jut out. Especially women who were as beautiful as Katniss.

"I just want her to think things through before she….puts herself in a bad spot. I figure if I get her alone and tempt her with bagels or cupcakes she might come around and talk to me."

I nodded, trying to seem casual but not stalker-ish. "Beautiful day for it."

Katniss offered another weak smile that didn't quite seem sincere. I watched her eyes as they scanned over the glass case full of pastries and bagels and muffins, my heart panging slightly as the familiar hungry look she usually got didn't appear. She used to not even be able to wait to leave the shop before taking a bite of something she'd bought; this girl looked indifferent to the selection of tasty morsels in front of her.

"Right…I wanted to get outside and just….get away I guess," she sighed. She reached out, running her finger absently across the bottom of the glass case as she surveyed the bagels. "Do you still make the ones I liked? The cinnamon crunch?"

I leaned back against the back bar and felt a little better. "Same ones, yup. Have some cooling in the back."

She smiled a little. "Hoping I'd be in to steal them all?"

I didn't think before I spoke. She was joking, but I wasn't.

"Maybe I was."

Her eyes met mine across the glass, and for once that day her look was anything but passive and empty. It was intense. She froze midstep, her grey eyes locking onto mine. The lights in the case reflected up onto her stunning irises, making them look cool and sharp. My words were true and unplanned, but I'd meant them. I'd meant it when I said I'd been hoping she'd come back in to bakery someday. I clenched my jaw in embarrassment, feeling the heat rush up into my cheeks the way I hated. I immediately realized I'd misspoken, but what could I do? The girl had driven me crazy for months now – almost a year. I could drop one hint that I'd missed her, couldn't I?

Katniss stared at me, her tan cheeks suddenly turning slightly pink. She opened her mouth to speak, but snapped it shut with an impish little smile.

"Sorry," I said quickly, waving her off. If she was going through a rough time, the last thing she wanted was a guy being a flirty creep to her. Besides…I couldn't let myself get invested in her again only to lose her.

I couldn't lose her again.

But to lose her, I'd have to have her first, I reminded myself. I didn't have shit. I had a bakery. That was it.

My life had been turned upside down by the girl with the braid. I'd pined and planned and hoped for her to come back to me in some shape or form, and she had. I didn't bump into her on the street, or see her at the park, or in a store or a bar…no. She was here. In front of me.

Serendipity was a sick bitch.

"Sorry?" she asked. "About what?"

She was politely playing off my flirty slash creepy comment and being nice. She was letting me off the hook.

So why wouldn't my stupid mouth let me live it down, I'll never know.

"I….I actually did hope that you'd…come back."

Katniss stared at me. "You did?"

I nodded.

The bakery was so quiet in that moment I was certain she could hear my heart pounding through my white t-shirt as I watched her. My mouth went dry and my hands started to sweat. I knew I should let her go again. Wish her well, sell her some fucking bagels, and get on with my miserable little life.

But I couldn't.

Instead, I offered her the most charming smile I could muster in my moment of internal panic, rubbed my sweaty hands on my flour-covered apron, and let my heart win the battle with my mind.

"I wanted you to come back because….I couldn't stop thinking about you. And I guess I….didn't really want to stop."


	55. Chapter 55

Peeta POV ch. 12

I'd just told Katniss I couldn't stop thinking about her.

Well, shit.

She'd finally walked back into my pathetic, lonely, miserable little life and I'd blurted out that I couldn't stop thinking about her. I wondered if my self-loathing was something she could sense. I hoped not.

My words hung in the air, second after cringe-worth second.

There was a split second where I prayed the floor would open up and swallow me whole. She stared at me, her hands still clutched around the handle of the ridiculous looking purse. I watched her swallow, the slimmer cheekbones making her face look somewhat sharp as she stared at me. When I feared she would react horribly or out of disgust, her silvery eyes softened, the shock gone.

"You couldn't?"

Her words startled me out of the horrified trance I'd been locked in since uttering those words. I felt my smile falter slightly.

"Uhm…yeah. I mean…."

I tried to cook up some lame excuse, some half witty comment to give her to save myself from further humiliation. I tried to picture myself saying something, no, anything that could hopefully make this better. But I had nothing. I dropped my eyes from hers, trying to compose myself.

"Peeta?"

I glanced up at her, peeling my eyes off the floor. She wasn't looking at me with the look of shocked disgust. Her expression registered surprise, sure, but it wasn't disgust.

It was curiosity.

"I thought you…you would have forgotten about me. Why didn't you? You think?" she stammered softly. She gazed across the counter at me with a look of genuine interest. She was giving me the same look she did when she would listen to me talk about my ridiculous bagels. I bored myself sometimes, yet this girl managed to look at me and really see me. She acted like everything I saw interesting and made me feel like something as insignificant as bread mattered.

I gulped. She's come back into my life for a reason, damn it.

"Because I….have this crazy notion in my head I guess that…you came back for a reason. I know I've only met you a handful of times and this is going to sound crazy…."

"Yes," she laughed awkwardly. "It probably is."

I bit back my pride. I'd already crossed into the arena of the inevitably awkward 'I like you, do you like me too?' phase, and there was no more casual acquaintances anymore. I was now the guy that was going to ask her out whether she liked it or not. Whether she wanted to be the girl that said 'yes' or not was going to be up to her in a few moments. I pushed the nerves in my stomach down and tried to gather up my thoughts to sell myself to her. I wanted her to want me as much as I wanted her.

"Uhm…well I remember you came in and I met you that day and….jeez, uh….well you just…for a lack of a better way to describe it, you struck me as someone I wanted to get to know."

She cocked her head to the side, her gaze penetrating.

"Why?"

"What?" I sputtered.

"Why?" she repeated. "Why did you want to know me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

She smiled softly, but shook her head. She was intrigued, but I hadn't given her what she wanted.

"You didn't answer my question. Why did you want to get to know me?"

I shrugged. What did I have to lose? Another wasted year spent pining after the girl with the braid? I wasn't going to do that. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

"You seem bold. Unique. Unafraid. Just…like you're out there living your life to the fullest. You're funny, you've got a great laugh and you seem to laugh at my weird, un-funny jokes about bread. You didn't hate me when I convinced you I had a sister named Ciabatta….. I mean, you put hazelnut cream cheese on a cinnamon crunch bagel, like…clearly you have no limits on the risks you'll take, so…"

Proving my point, she chuckled to herself. I saw a flash of the girl with the braid from last summer.

I leaned on the counter, half to be casual and half to keep knees from nervously knocking together.

"I met you last year when you walked in here looking for bread and bagels….and….I wanted to ask you out," I admitted.

There. It was out.

"You did?"

I nodded slowly, focusing on the way her mouth fell open in slight surprise. Her full lower lip jutted out as she stared at me, her gaze still intense but somehow yielding.

"But I didn't want to be that guy who just…saw something he liked on the outside and went for it. That's not me. Never has been I guess…so I just waited. I tried to get to know you in a uh…un-creepy way, which I am totally blowing right now by the way by pouring my heart out like this, but what the hell."

Katniss smiled.

"So every time you came back I tried to get to know you. Be your…friend, I guess. And I suppose I tried to lure you back in with the promise of pastries and bagels, which… now that I say it out loud makes me a little bit like the witch from Hansel and Gretel, but…."

We both laughed at my stupid joke. I was unable to look at her now, instead running my hand through my hair. I'm sure that made it stick up at all angles, but I didn't care. I had to do something with my hands to keep from reaching out for hers across the glass counter. If she didn't think I was an absolute creep before, she surely did now with me rambling on and on. But what choice did I have? At least now I knew she would know how I felt when she walked out that door.

"…But I had to tell you. You disappeared last year and I just…didn't know what to do. I barely knew you, yet….yet I thought about you're very time I made those damn bagels or…or saw a girl with a dark braid. I kept thinking about you and I know you probably think I'm a huge creep now, and that's…that's fine, but I wanted to at least let you know."

She raised one eyebrow.

"I mean, uh…that I was thinking about you. Not that I'm a huge creep. I swear I'm not, I didn't like follow you home or look up your address or anything, I know nothing about you other than your bagel preference, Katniss. I'm more borderline dork than creep. Yeah."

She smirked this time, her silver eyes shining. It was as if she was saying in her own private way, I get your humor.

"I uh…I'm really going to just stop talking now. I think. Yup. But before I do, just….Katniss, I think I was thinking about you these past months for a reason. I think we owe it to my…uh, thoughts so just see where things take us. Would you maybe want to…to go out? S-sometime? With me?"

She had to know that terrible question was coming. Hell, it'd been on the tip of my tongue for the past fifteen minutes I'd been spewing my guts to her. But she still looked surprised to hear me actually ask her.

I waited for her response. And waited.

Finally, she opened her mouth, closed it, and shook her head. The word 'yes' looked like it was on the tip of her tongue!

"Hail," she muttered under her breath.

"What?"

"Oh, uh…nothing," she sighed, looking down the floor. I gave her a quizzical look and waited for her to speak again.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing…Peeta, listen…"

My stomach sank as I prepared myself for the usual 'you're not my type' speech, but it didn't come. Instead, she uttered the two words I least expected to hear in my slightly humiliating moment. She mumbled them so quickly that I almost didn't catch them. When I did however, I wished I hadn't.

"I'm engaged."

I felt like I'd been kicked in the stomach. My eyes went down to her left hand where she gripped her bag. Her fingers twitched slightly against the handle, her right fiddling over her left. But I could still see it. It was nestled between a few bony fingers as she clutched her purse, but I could see it. Shiny, sparkling, and big enough to ice skate on, there it was.

A diamond engagement ring that looked like it cost more than everything I owned put together.

Not only was Katniss not interested in me, she was engaged. Taken by someone else. Someone undoubtedly better. In the ten minutes she'd been back in my life, I'd stupidly let myself think that I had a sliver of a chance with her.

But not now.

My hopes of ever having the girl with the braid were over almost before they had even begun.

It was over.


	56. Chapter 56

Peeta POV Chapter 13

One month later

"So really though, I've always thought I'd find myself back living on the coast somewhere. Near the water. How about you?"

I shifted my eyes to Annie across the table as I waited for her answer. I always loved to hear her talk – she had a way of being both entertaining and polite, yet always managed to put Finnick in his place.

"I don't know. I'm not much for the ocean. If you lived at the beach, where would you visit on a vacation?" she mused. "Here's nice."

She shrugged nonchalantly, her non-committal answer making Finnick almost wince. I chuckled as I took another drag of my draft beer. I'd never seen Finnick have to try this hard to keep a girl interested in a conversation with him. Usually women saw his physique, his dimples, and his straight teeth and perfectly tousled bronzed hair and they were falling at his feet. Annie, not so much.

Finnick had finally gotten her agree to go out with him a couple times, but none of their dates had added up to much of anything yet. Finnick swore the girl ran hot and cold – some days she liked him, others days she was as aloof as she was being right now. Her moods were hard to gauge at times, but I found it more entertaining than anything. It was nice to see Finnick have to work to keep a girl interested rather than practically swatting them away.

"Another round?" Our waitress asked.

She scanned Finnick with appreciative eyes as she waited for our order. Tall, blonde, and definitely wearing the smallest and tightest pub t-shirt I'm sure the place would allow, she was typically what Finnick would have gone for – a year ago. However, now he preferred one type – Annie. He'd spent nine months chatting with her, pleading with her, and downright stalking her at the café where we frequented for breakfast before she'd finally agreed to go on a date with him. They'd had a few here and there, but nothing typical for Finnick. I don't even think he'd gotten to so much as kiss her yet. I shook my head as Annie studied the drink menu carefully. She didn't really drink much to my surprise and Finnick's, but she shocked us both by ordering a glass of wine.

The flirty looking waitress' eyes darted between the three of us, calculating who Annie was here with – she was probably debating which one of us she was here with and if Finnick was available or not. She gave Finnick an expectant look that he barely glanced at.

"What…she's having," he said, his voice clipped. Turning back to Annie, he focused his attention back on her.

"But how would you know if you've never even lived anywhere else?"

The waitress gave an annoyed huff, stomping off with their order without bothering for mine.

"I'm…doing fine," I muttered, shaking my head. He continued to babble and backtrack, trying desperately to keep Annie engaged in a conversation with him. I guessed it was one of the first times he'd had to actually talk on a date rather than just falling into bed with someone. Oh Finnick…sometimes I was embarrassed for him.

It had been a month since I'd seen Katniss – well, humiliated myself in front of Katniss was really more like it. She'd told me she was engaged and shot me down lightly, but not before assuring me that my embarrassment shouldn't hinder us from being friends.

Right.

Because that's what I had wanted to hear in that moment.

But I'd choked back my embarrassment and nodded to her, assuring her that we could still be friends and I would still always bake a batch of cinnamon crunch bagels if she promised to stop in occasionally and see me. She'd agreed before taking her bagels and leaving.

But I was okay.

The gigantic engagement ring on her finger had officially taken her off the market, and I needed to respect that. I had taken it as a sign to move on and focus on other things. And I had.

Business was off to a slow start, but people really only thought of a bread shop when it started to get cold and they wanted something warm and pumpkin flavored. I'd branched out into doing more wedding cakes and hadn't given up the idea of someday serving more food than just bread and pastries. Rue had turned out to be a diamond in the rough as far as employees went – she'd blossomed in the past year and had become one of my most dependable, friendly employees. I was teaching her how to open and close and had just given her a key to the shop last week. My loft over the deli was coming along – Finnick helped me finish the tile floor in the kitchen earlier in the day and we were downtown blowing off some steam. There was only so much tile-cutting with Finnick I could take, as he was no perfectionist and I was. I figured I owed him a few beers for all of his hard labor.

He'd called Annie to meet us at the last minute. He hadn't expected her to even answer his call, much less actually agree. So we were downtown, not far from my loft in a dive bar that was in our usual circle of bars to hit, having a few beers on a Thursday night.

"I'm gonna…get a beer," I mumbled to them, gesturing to my empty glass.

Annie smiled in acknowledgement, but Finnick barely noticed me leave. He was too busy watching her fiddle with the straw wrapper in her fingers.

Shaking my head, I made my way through the crowd of twenty-something's and up to the bar. It was a trendy little dive bar but nothing special. People came there after ball games and on Tuesdays for nickel drafts, so the flow of people was touch and go depending on what night it was. It was big enough to meet new people in but small enough to recognize some of the faces, which I liked.

Leaning on the bar, I tried to get the attention of the bartender as I stood wedged shoulder to shoulder with a few other people who were talking loudly. The outdated TVs screwed to the wall seemed to each be blaring a different sports game and somehow the juke box was on as well. I twirled my empty mug on the bar and waited patiently for the waitress to catch my eye. It was alright – I wanted to give Finnick more time alone with Annie.

He'd gotten cocky from the few times he'd gotten to go out with her – maybe she'd knock him down a peg or two, I thought with a small snort.

I was standing by some suits – that's what we called guys who wore ties to work and never put down their phones, even after hours. They were talking loudly about this quarter versus that one, numbers and figures and projections for the next year. I tuned out their blathering and tried again to get the waitresses' attention. One of the guys wedged into the bar beside me gestured too widely, knocking me in the shoulder with his tumbler and hand.

I turned in surprise, glancing down at the hem of my t-shirt that was now soaked with rancid smelling scotch. He turned over his shoulder, eyeing me momentarily.

"Careful there," I offered, still waiting for an apology.

One of his grey eyes caught mine as he tipped his head in a cool acknowledgement before turning back to his friends. No, that's alright. You just soaked by shirt and didn't apologize or excuse yourself, but it's cool. Not a problem buddy, I thought. I looked away and frowned into the bottom of my empty beer mug. I hated to generalize, but suits were often jerks. Thinking they were so important. I needed another beer.

I was just about to jump over the bar and serve myself when I saw her.

She walked into the bar, eyes down but her shoulders back. It was Katniss.

Holy shit. Katniss was here.

I gaped with an open mouth as she finally looked up. She was wearing tastefully cut shorts but a black top that made her breasts look like…well, something out of a few dreams I'd had. It sloped down enough to show the gentle curve between them as they bounced lightly with her movements. Even across the crowded bar I could see the tan glow to her already perfect skin. Her hair was down and wavy, the straight bangs cutting across her forehead. The look was too blunt for her soft cheekbones and pouty lips, but even like that she looked like a beauty. I swallowed roughly as she scanned the bar, debating internally whether or not I should look away. Did it matter? Did I want her to see me? Would she come up to me and talk?

I wasn't sure if my pride could handle it.

My pride didn't stand a chance, it turned out. I stared at her and kept staring at her until her silvery eyes met mine from across the bar. Holy shit, she saw me. There was no hiding to spare my pride now.

Katniss gave me a surprised look and then started walking towards me. Slowly at first, and then she started cutting through the crowd with purpose. I felt my heart start to pound as I realized she was walking towards me. What was I going to say? She'd told me she was engaged and we'd had the awkward 'let's still be friends' talk, but what more could she want to say to me? I turned to greet her, even opening my mouth to say something as she walked up to me.

Or so I thought.

She gave me a fleeting glance, her eyes pleading for a split second before glancing at the suit next to me. The Sloppy Scotch drinker.

Time felt like it slowed like molasses as I waited for it. Then, she spoke.

"Hey."

"Hey," he greeted back, running a hand over her shoulder. "We'll just be a second. I needed a drink with the team to say thanks for a hard day. You were still asleep when I left this morning."

"I know…long day," she muttered, her eyes flashing to mine.

"You get my shirts? From the drycleaner?"

"Um….no, Cora did. I had some stuff to do," she replied softly. The Sloppy Scotch drinker gave a grunt of clear distaste before re-joining the conversation with his work buddies.

My eyes met hers. She opened her mouth to speak, but her gaze darted to him first and she closed it. She gave me an apologetic, flustered look. I felt my cheeks grow hot as I turned back around. I needed to stop. My heart was pounding in my ears. I needed to stop, mind my own business, and let it go. But honestly? Him?!

I fumed silently, pouting like a child as I waved impatiently at the waitress. She finally obliged, sliding me a new mug of beer across the worn wood.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as Katniss stood almost directly behind me and her fiancé jostled me again with his glass of scotch and wide gestures. His starched white shirt was rolled up to his elbows, his tie loosened, but I could still tell he was the important type. The type that never had time for anything, always carried his leather briefcase, and thought he was too important for ninety nine percent of the planet.

And he was her fiancé.

I glanced over my shoulder at him, scanning his side profile as I sipped my beer. I knew next to nothing about this guy, other that the fact that he was a suit who drank nasty scotch and was too good to say he was sorry. None of that mattered. He was engaged to her. He had gotten her, and he would always have her.

In the month that I'd known she was taken by someone else, I'd silently hoped in the depths of my despair that she would at least having someone great. That he was caring, loved the outdoors like she did, and would always expect her to do the bread shopping.

But no. She was going to marry this douche bag.

Frustrated, I turned and slid past her as nonchalantly as I could. She stood on the outskirts of the group, arms crossed and looking out of place as her fiancé still talking about work with his buddies. He hadn't even ordered her a drink. Her eyes flashed to mine again. I wanted to stop and say something polite, something friendly…anything. But I couldn't.

I had to get out of there.


	57. Chapter 57

Peeta POV Chapter 14

I wandered back to the table after that, numb. I hated myself for letting it get back to that point, that stupid hot feeling in my cheeks akin to humiliation…. but was really just horror. I guess that's the best way to describe it. I'm not sure. I hadn't done anything wrong to deserve feeling like this, but I still did.

She was here with him. Her fiancé. The guy she was going to spend the rest of her life with.

The guy that wasn't me.

The guy that was a starched shirt wearing, Blackberry using scotch drinker who asked her if she'd picked up his dry cleaning before he'd even gotten her a drink or asked her about her day.

Or kissed her.

I clutched my beer in my hand as the rest of the bar faded away into the background, the whole of it suddenly just noise. I'd wanted the world for that girl. But instead she was going to marry someone like that. Someone who made me cringe and hate his guts just for breathing.

If she was mine, the first thing I'd do every time I saw her was kiss her.

Or ask about her day.

Or tell her how beautiful she was.

Or just…not be like that guy.

I plopped down at the table with Finnick and Annie who barely noticed me – they were debating back and forth about something trivial and silly like they always did. Finnick defending his stance and Annie not budging an inch. It was cute really, but tiring. I liked that she made him think and stay on his toes and whatnot, but sometimes it was exhausting to be around them.

I had no patience in my current state of mind for anything cute.

I took a long swill of my beer, downing over half of it in one gulp. The hair on the back of my neck stood up again; she was looking at me from across the bar. I could feel it.

Finnick finally stopped talking for a second, holding up his hand to silence Annie. She looked perturbed for a moment, then realized why he'd stopped their argument when she noticed the horrified look on my face..

"Sorry, Annie….What's with that face? What happened?"

I stared down at my empty glass.

He groaned. "I know that face, Peet."

I shot him a miserable look.

"Yeah….she's here, huh?"

I could only nod miserably.

Finnick scanned the bar, but I waved him off.

"Just stop. Please. She's….she's here with her fiancé."

Annie's eyes widened. "She's really engaged to someone else?"

"You thought I was lying?" I laughed indignantly. "No. She's definitely engaged and here with him now. To add injury to insult, he spilled his scotch on me," I pouted. I knew I was acting like a little pouty bitch but I had just lost any will to care what they thought of me.

"Oh Peeta," Annie's face fell. "I am….so sorry."

Finnick nodded, his ocean colored eyes suddenly stormy.

"Did you…talk to him? Or?"

"Didn't have to. Guy's a straight up dick. He's one of the suits leaning against the bar."

"I want to kick this dude's ass."

I took another drink.

"Kick his ass if you want to, but that only means she'd have to go home and take care of him. And then he'd be an even bigger ass to her."

"What do you mean?"

I scowled into my glass, feeling like a kicked puppy. Reaching over, I snagged the single shot of Jack in front of Finnick and downed it in one large gulp. Finnick gave me a fleeting look of dismay, but seemed to excuse my thievery in the midst of things.

"He…asked her about his fucking dry-cleaning, Finn. Before he even said 'hello' or kissed her or anything, he asked her if she picked up his dry cleaning. Doesn't that sound like a dick move?"

"Totally a dick move," Annie agreed, the mild expletive sounding foreign on her normally docile tongue.

I gave her an appreciative look.

"I…I duno, just….." I heaved a sigh, glancing between my two concerned friends. It suddenly seemed utterly stupid that these two wonderful people were playing games and weren't just together. They could be together – they were both young, single, and could at least tolerate each other's company. Maybe more, who knows – Annie did pick up the phone when he called and she was at least single – that was more than I had.

"You guys just…you should be together," I sighed, the sudden rush of alcohol hitting me hard.

Finnick gave me a bewildered look. He glanced sideways at Annie, who was sitting rod-straight on her barstool. They shared a perplexed look for a moment before Finnick leaned in.

"Peet, what are you talking about? You were just babbling on about Katniss and dry cleaning and now…you're telling us to be together."

I shrugged, beyond caring. "Well you should. I mean….you like each other. Maybe more than like. But you're always too busy shying around it. You both jerk each other around."

Annie cleared her throat. I expected a rebuttal but got nothing.

I glanced over at her with a pleading look.

"Annie….Finnick is crazy about you. He's an ass sometimes and he's a former man whore and he's horrible at laundry, but….he's just over the moon for you. Please. Overlook his flaws. I haven't seen him act like he does around you around any woman before in my existence. You should….be with him. He'd treat you right, Annie."

She gave me another startled look before glancing back at Finnick.

He just shrugged again.

"I think you like him too. You let him take you out every month or so, which seems to be as often as anyone, and….you like to argue with him. You make him think, which…no one ever has before. You act like you hate him, yet your eyes light up whenever he walks into a room or tells you you're wrong. You both love the challenge and I think….I think you really do care about each other. So why don't you do this old miserable fool a favor and just…be together?"

I didn't wait for a response from my beyond baffled friends. Pushing the barstool back, I slapped a handful of ones down on the worn wooden table left before they could call me crazy and drunk. Or both.

X0x0x0x0x0x0x0x

You'd think that after you ask out an engaged girl and she shoots you down that she would avoid you like the plague. You'd think that after meeting her asshole future husband and having him spill expensive scotch on your sleeve she would never speak to you again.

I was quickly learning that the girl of my dreams that was not meant for me was all about anything but doing what was expected of her.

She came into my shop at least once a week after that.

The summer wore on and faded into another chilly, blustery fall. My business grew, my recipes caught on, and I fell even more hopelessly in love with the girl with the dark braid.

"I can't drink a pumpkin spice latte. I make fun of people who drink pumpkin spice lattes. Or can't shut up about pumpkin this or pumpkin that every fall. I basically hate everything that's cliché, Peeta. I can't even believe you make this crap here."

I smirked. She was never one to hold back what she thought, that was for sure.

"Would you just stifle and try it? Jeez, woman…"

"A pumpkin latte…what's happened to me?"

"It drives the yuppies and hipsters crazy though, and I have to eat, so…." I bit back a laugh as I added a dollop of whipped cream to the top of the mug. Katniss hated pumpkin flavored things, but I had a feeling she wouldn't be able to resist my famous, fast selling pumpkin spice lattes. I was told I even put Starbucks to shame.

"I know, but it's just so cliché. I drink my coffee black and I my hot chocolate untainted. I'm a simple girl who likes simple things. When you add words like latte and spice in it, things get too fancy for my liking…oh jeez, you're not actually sprinkling actual spices on it, are you?"

I snorted, covering the cinnamon/nutmeg/sugar mixture with my hand, pretending to hide it shamefully from her view. Katniss sighed in exasperation.

"A coffee should not take this long to prepare and serve."

"True," I sighed. "But this isn't coffee. It's a venti pumpkin spice latte. So enjoy."

I handed her the pumpkin latte over the counter, ignoring the playful gasp of disgust she gave.

"Just try it," I chuckled. "On the house."

Shaking her head, she accepted the steamy beverage with both hands. Our fingertips brushed. I glanced at her, hoping she didn't see the color rising into my cheeks.

The knowing glint in her eye told me she did.

Slowly, we became friends.

Or….as friendly as one could get to an engaged girl. She would stop in, chat with me for half an hour or until her coffee was cold, then she would heave a sigh and go back to wherever she went when she left my bakery.

Home.

To him.

She still looked too thin and her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. Every time she looked at me with that smile with a woeful tinge to it I would feel a small ember of hope flicker inside of me. Maybe she wouldn't do it.

Maybe she wouldn't marry him.

Maybe I still had a shot.

I was sweeping up one evening, getting ready to close with the TV playing softly in the background. I heard a strangely familiar voice being interviewed. Not thinking much of it, I turned to glance at the tiny television tucked on the back counter.

I froze mid-sweep.

It was him.

Katniss' guy.

Gale Hawthorne, the caption on the television said.

Of Hawthorne Industries.

I groaned. Of course. Of course she would be engaged to a mining tycoon, a guy wealthier than a sultan who had height and good looks to boot. I hadn't gotten a really good look at him that night in the bar, but I remembered him.

I'd remember him anywhere.

He was being interviewed by the local news about a mine expansion and how he'd brought hundreds of new jobs to the community. His company was booming and Hawthorne Industries was more successful than ever.

Of course it was.

Just when I'd allowed myself one stupid moment of hope, I'd seen that. Perfect.

Even though the girl with the braid had come back into my life and we were now even friends, I suddenly felt more alone than ever.


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 15: Peeta POV

Fall wore on. The weather went from chilly and blustery into a sudden snap of cold and snow that had people flocking to the bakery for freshly baked loaves and hot cups of coffee. Business was booming – my father was proud of me for 'taking it and running with it', as he called it. I never dreamed I'd do this well – I thought the magic of the bakery was always in my father's strong, capable, knowing hands. I'd lived my life watching him recite recipes from his memory, knead the dough, and carefully hover in front of the ancient ovens in the back of the shop. I'd always sworn the secret ingredient was in the way he baked, and how he just knew when a loaf was done. Turns out the secret to anything was quality ingredients and moderate to low pricing. I wasn't complaining though – my life's work was coming along nicely and I was making a living doing what I loved.

The little old woman who owned the ancient meat shop beneath my loft I was constructing had informed me she was retiring – none of her sons were interested in running the business, and she said she'd given me a fair price if I wanted to buy the rest of the old brick building from her. It was basically just around the corner and down the street from where Mellark Bakery had always resided, however, I knew that it was a smart move for me. It was twice the size of my dad's old bakery and I knew I needed the space. She had better access to the alley for deliveries, a bigger cellar, a walk in refrigerator, and the spot she had for storing meat could be easily converted into space for our industrial sized ovens. I had already paid off the loft above the shop where I'd been living for the past year and a half (turns out money came easily when all you did was work and not have any semblance of a personal life) and she was now in the process of selling me the shop.

I couldn't wait to tell my father.

"I'm expanding," I'd told him at Thanksgiving that year. "She wants to be out of her shop by the end of the year and I close on it the day after Christmas. Sign the papers downtown and everything."

My mother could only roll her eyes. "Thank goodness you don't have a family of your own yet Peeta, baker's hours are just dreadful."

My suit-wearing brothers were just glad "Little Peet was finally making something of himself!"

Their pretty wives gave me matching, pearly white smiles from across the dinner table as my dad raised a glass of cheap holiday wine in my honor.

"To Peeta," he'd beamed, oblivious to the lackluster well-wishes of the rest of the family. They echoed back, everyone gleefully tilting back their cups before the meal began. All I could do was look at the perfectly even chairs at the dinner table and realize I was indeed the odd man out.

I glanced at the empty seat beside me and had to fight my eyes to not let them linger.

Katniss watched me as I pasted another 'We're moving! – Same great bread, brand new location!' flyer beside the door. I watched her read the sigh with speculative eyes as I resumed my place behind the counter. Moving would be a chore and a half and I'd have to actually take a few days off to do it, but it would be worth it. I could feel it.

"So where is this again?"

I laughed as I rearranged the remaining pastries in the glass case. The morning rush had just ended, and I was prepping for the lunch crowd. I could hardly wait to get into my new shop space where I would actually have the room to store things like meat, cheese, and things for salads. Of course I offered a limited variety of cold sandwiches now, but with the right space I could expand to soups, salads, Panini's…it was a bakers dream.

"Right around the corner. I'm buying that old meat shop," I reminded her again.

She sipped the last of her black coffee and nodded. "They used to process deer meat, didn't they?"

I laughed again, "Not sure. But I know it's bigger and has a slightly better location, and well, it's closer to home."

"Home?" she asked, her dark eyebrows rising.

For a girl with a fiancé she sure has a lot of questions about you, a tiny voice in the back of my mind echoed. I imagined swatting it away.

"Yeah, uh…I bought the loft above it. Been redoing it in my spare time. I um…turns out I have a lot of that," I muttered the last part just loud enough for her to hear. I dared to look at her – she was watching me through the glass as I rearranged the pastries again, neatly lining them up on the white paper doilies. The scent of powdered sugar hung in the air as I straightened up to look at her.

"You build?" she asked. I was about to brag when the bell above the door chimed. I looked up and groaned internally.

Finnick.

This would not be good. Finnick was not known for having a filter on his mouth.

"Hey man," I greeted lightly, hoping to distract him. "What's up?"

Finnick strode confidently in, ignoring Katniss standing off to the side of the counter.

"Phillip threatened to fire me again, Peeta. I'm telling you, this boss of mine, this man…he's infuriating. Wouldn't know a decent employee if one bit him in the ass! He goes on and on and on about the silliest things, and those little ass kissers he hired over the summer can take direction, but when someone like me comes along and can see the bigger picture, well…" He began rattling off the mundane details of his day, his chatty mouth slowing only when he realized I wasn't alone.

He paused, motioning widely to Katniss.

"Who is this?" he questioned brightly, his bright eyes lighting up. He knew damn well who it was, I growled in my head.

"Just a …friend," I stuttered. Please don't humiliate me man, please, please…

Finnick strutted proudly over to Katniss, extending his hand. "I'm Finnick. Peeta's never mentioned any of his….friends," he finished, giving her a speculative up and down glance. Katniss gripped his hand. Judging by the way she flexed, I'm guessing it was quite a grip.

I raised one eyebrow at her as I brushed the sugar and sticky traces of coffee-cake filling off my hands, using my apron.

"Don't you have somewhere to be?" I teased her. I was secretly hoping she'd leave before Finnick had the chance to say something offensive or humiliating – he had a steady track record of doing both in the presence of women.

She shrugged. She'd come in almost half an hour ago looking for her usual bagel and coffee that she purchased every few days. I'd seen her more and more often – I wasn't complaining, but it had dawned on me that something was slightly wrong. She wasn't quite herself. She was talkative, but shaky and nervous at the same time. Like she was killing time with me to avoid something else. I ached to ask her what exactly.

"No," she sighed. A slight tinge of jealousy rose in my gut as Katniss appraised Finnick with a leery side glance. Surely she noticed his broad shoulders, model good looks, and height. Height I didn't have going for me, never had. If Finnick was a prized garden lily, I was an unwanted dandelion in the scheme of the good looks department. Sure I had my own good attributes, but against him I couldn't compare.

"School not work out? I thought you wanted to go back….er, something," I asked, trying to move the topic to something neutral.

Katniss tucked a stray hair behind her ear, glancing nervously at Finnick. Her silvery eyes darted around the bakery, refusing to meet mine. Color rushed up her neck, flushing her tan skin up past the neck of her coat.

"I'm…not sure I'm going back," she mumbled.

"What?" I gaped. "You're not going to finish school?"

She gave me a pleading look before she let her eyes dart over to Finnick. He was standing uncomfortably close to her, his shiny teeth showing and his eyes bright with mischief. I groaned inwardly again and begged him not to do or say something atrociously obnoxious and uncouth. Finnick had always loved to get a rise out of people with his words and actions, and even though he was my most trusted friend I knew he wouldn't pass up a chance.

She did the nervous hair-tuck thing again.

"You really quit school? But weren't you done?"

"Yes, but that's not the point, I just….

"But you told me that was something your dad really wanted for you-"

"Peeta-"

"Are you happy?"

She looked over at Finnick, obviously a bit embarrassed to be having this conversation in front of him.

"Happy?"

"Quitting school. Does that make you happy?"

"I've got other things to do, I….erm…"

I glanced around the empty bakery. "Like hang out in a bakery all day?"

I knew something was wrong. This wasn't the lively, fearless girl that had walked into my bakery that spring day over a year ago. This was a sad, half shell of her.

She frowned – the first dirty look she'd ever given me. I held up my hands in mock surrender and glanced at Finnick with a help me plea to my eyes.

He stuck out his hand and flashed a mega-watt grin.

"Where are my manners!?" he gasped, jabbing his hand towards her. "I'm Peeta's best friend, his partner in crime, instigator of any and all adventures…and you must be…"

She opened her mouth to speak, but Finnick beat her to it. "Katniss."

She nodded, awkwardly taken aback. "Have we met?"

He shook his head, shaking her hand with more vigor that was necessary. She frowned at his grasp, trying unsuccessfully to pull her hand back.

"You look familiar," he mused, suddenly dialing it back from a ten to a four. His voice lowered, his hand shaking slowed, and his gaze grew calculating. Katniss' eyes flicked to mine for a moment before she finally yanked her hand away from his and huffed.

"I do?"

He nodded, narrowing his eyes. They widened suddenly and he flashed another grin.

"I've got it! It was at the pub. The one around the corner, you know it? I was there with Peeta a few months back. That's our usual haunt I suppose you could say. Getting a big overrun with suits now, but you know how that goes.

"I was there," She replied flatly. "So yes."

Finnick chuckled. "I saw old Peet run into you. That was the night he finally pointed out the fabled Katniss. I thought he'd made you up!" he fawned gleefully, his words almost theatric. I watched him with careful eyes, not sure where he was going with this. To most people Finnick was a slightly manic twit, but he was honest, bold, and calculating. I didn't know whether to stop him or beg him to go on.

"You told him about me?" she asked, turning to me. Her face was unreadable.

Finnick laughed jovially. "Of course he did! He would have introduced us, but you looked erm…busy."

I narrowed my eyes at Finnick in a silent warning, but he was too far gone to be wrangled back now.

"Busy? I was just…meeting my fiancé after work," she mumbled, her voice quiet. She watched Finnick with distrust as he gave her a surprised stare.

"Really…" Finnick hummed.

"Yes, really," she snapped. "Why do you say it like that?"

Finnick's eyes seemed to glimmer and I realized then what he was doing. Before I could speak up and interject, he shrugged and spoke.

"I saw him kiss you and it was like…." He laughed slowly, shaking his head, "It was like you were kissing your brother or something."

Well, fuck.

Katniss let out a sputtering breath of disgust.

"Did I say something…?" Finnick gasped in mock horror. My jaw dropped open as she whirled around and stormed out of the store faster than a bullet. A gust of cold air was soon all that was left of her.

I fisted my hair and gaped at my so called friend with more horror than I thought was possible.

"Finnick!" I gasped. "What on the earthly FUCK was THAT for?!" I shouted. Thank goodness the bakery was empty. I turned around at the counter, smacking a tray of chocolate chip cookies. They catapulted into the air, turning several times before landing on the floor of the bakery in a heap.

"No need to go wasting cookies man, I mean-"

"Finnick!" I practically shouted again, the disbelief I felt making my voice shake. "Why would you say that? And to some girl you just met? Fuck," I growled.

He jammed his hands into his coat pocket. "She has to know," he sighed, oblivious to my rage. "She has to know that she's marrying the wrong guy."

I leaned on the bakery counter and tried to stare daggers at him with my eyes. "It's too late for that, dickwad. She's engaged, she's…she's getting married in the spring. It's over."

Finnick shook his head. "What, so…so I said something that upset her? Made her think, made her feel? You've said it yourself man, she isn't the girl you met. She's different, withdrawn, yadda yadda yadda….so why do you think that is? If she's marrying the right guy, shouldn't she be bursting with joy right about now and not hanging around in a bakery, flirting it up with some single guy?"

I simply glared at him in response.

He smacked the counter with a satisfied smirk and pointed at me as he walked towards the door. "You'll thank me later."

I would have never guessed it, but that's exactly what I eventually did.

It took her two weeks to come back to the bakery, but she eventually did. Eleven days before Christmas – on a Tuesday – Katniss Everdeen stormed back into my bakery an hour before closing time.

The door chimed violently as another gust of cold air swept into the warm shop. I thought my eyes would pop out of my head I was so astonished to see her. After Finnick's rudeness and the absence that followed, I'd ruefully accepted that my last time seeing Katniss might indeed be the final time she came to the bakery. But then…there she was. I felt my eyebrows rise and my heart begin to race.

Rue glanced up in surprise as she bagged some French bread for an older couple. I nodded to her that everything was okay, but the young girl still stared with wide eyes as Katniss raced up to where I stood behind the counter.

"Katniss?" I choked out. "What…what are you doing here?"

She gulped, her grey eyes intense and focused. Her hair was in a bedraggled braid and her cheeks were flushed with cold but God damn if she wasn't the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on. She gasped a few times – did she run here? And then, she spoke.

"You're taking me on a date."


	59. Chapter 59

Peeta Pov: Chapter 16

"You're taking me on a date."

I was so busy focusing on the fact that Katniss was just merely standing in front of me again that all I could do was blink a few times and let my mouth drop open. It was the last thing I'd ever would have expected after Finnick's show a few weeks before. I was certain my best friend had insulted her beyond what was forgivable and she'd never looked back.

I'd nearly written her off for good this time.

Yet here she was.

"Wha…what?" I stammered. I had to lean on the bakery counter for support. I felt like the world was standing still and Katniss was the only thing that existed.

Katniss stared at me as if she'd lost her voice. I watched as she shifted on her feet, glancing at a wide-eyed Rue who had suddenly stopped what she was doing and was staring at the scene in front of her. The older couple Rue was bagging the bread for even turned around in surprise at Katniss' outburst. I watched her gulp as color rushed back into her cheeks. She was clearly re-thinking her decision to burst into the bakery and say that so loudly.

"Um….ah, you're taking me on a date. If you want…that is," she said a second time. I noticed she'd lost a little of the ballsy attitude she'd some in here with. She offered me a crooked smile as she shifted on her feet again. She looked like she wanted to suddenly die of humiliation, but suddenly my mouth was having a difficult time forming actual words.

"You…you want to go out? With me?"

She nodded.

I twisted my hands in my apron, slowly wringing bits and pieces of dough out of the crevices. I'd been in the middle of prepping tomorrow's dough when she flew through the front door. What did she mean by this? By barging into my bakery on a random Tuesday night and demanding I take her out?

I took a deep breath, then frowned. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Yes," she confirmed solemnly, nodding her head. I waited for her explanation, but she just stared at me with that wide eyed look of hope and trust that had come out of nowhere.

"What…what about your fiancé? Gale? Is he…suddenly somehow out of the picture?"

She blew me away with her next word. It was a simple word, but it meant the world to me.

"Yes."

I stared at her. I could vaguely hear Rue fiddling around with the bread wrappings behind me, but I barely heard the bell over the door ring to signal the couple had left. Nothing else mattered but the girl standing in front of me.

Katniss tucked a wild piece of hair behind her ear. "So is that a no on the date?"

I ignored her question – I was still in shock. "So you're not engaged?"

Her mouth broke into a crooked grin. "No, I'm not engaged anymore," she sighed, holding up her bare left hand. The large diamond was indeed gone. It was one of the prettiest sights I'd ever seen.

"Can I ask what happened?"

She didn't look surprised with my probing question. "Nothing, we just…I wasn't happy. Your friend…your asshole friend made me…he made think. About things. My life. How I wanted to live it. And I wasn't happy, so…I broke up with Gale. Few weeks ago. I…I gave him his ring back and it's over," she stuttered nervously, waving her hands. I thought I saw them shake. She wound them together and chewed her lip as she waited for my answer.

"You're sure?"

She nodded sharply, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath though her nose and blew it out, opening her clear, grey eyes. "Positive. We're done, Peeta, I swear. I'm not messing with you, or unsure of it…"

"So it was just what Finnick said? That day?"

Katniss opened her mouth to speak, but it took her a moment to form the words. "No, it wasn't just what he said. I….I thought about you, Peeta. More than an engaged person should think about someone who wasn't the person they were going to marry in a few months. I thought about you too, and….what Finnick said to me just happened to push me over the edge.

I let her words sink in. "Well…huh," I muttered, scratching my head. Maybe Finnick wasn't such a dick after all. I thought of all the times in the past few weeks when I'd punched whatever dough I was kneading, picturing it was his face.

"I just…other than that, I really don't want to talk about Gale though…is…is t-that okay?" she asked shakily.

Caution flared inside of me. She could take it back, I thought. She could go back to him tomorrow, or get back together with him for real this time and marry him. She might just be doing this to screw with him and make a point. She could easily be using you.

I stared across the counter at her. She looked so small and nervous and at her wits end. But…she didn't look like a girl that was making choices and saying things she didn't mean or really want. She looked like a girl that had found a turning point and was throwing all doubts out the window to take a chance.

Fuck it, I thought. If I had a chance to be happy and be happy with her, then I was going to take it. I didn't have time for second chances and playing games of 'what if?' for the rest of my life.

Katniss stared across the bakery counter at me like she was starting to regret asking me out – I didn't want that. At all.

I could only nod. "I don't want to talk about him either…on our date," I added, flashing her a smile.

She laughed her hoarse laugh and beamed at me. I glanced at Rue.

"Can you close? There's only an hour left."

Rue nodded excitedly, her dark eyes bright as she watched me untie my apron. I tossed it on the counter behind me and easily hurdled over the counter. I landed on the other side and wasted no time grabbing my coat off the rack by the door and taking her hand.

"Come on," I laughed. She laughed too, and even squeezed my hand. For the first time in a long time, I finally felt like just maybe things were going to be okay.

I shrugged into my coat, dropping her hand only long enough to get my arm through the sleeve. We were out in front of the bakery as a cold wind began to whip down the narrow street. Christmas was just a week and a half away and the weather wasn't about to let us forget it.

I saw Katniss shiver slightly in the corner of my eye. What was my plan, exactly? Katniss grinned at me, her warm hand gripping mine despite the cold. Shit, I should have thought this through but how could I have known she would burst back into the bakery and demand I take her out on a date? I couldn't. Never in a million years did I ever think such a thing would ever happen. I hadn't even dared dream about where I would take her on our first date because I didn't ever see it happening in the first place.

Reality came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. I had money to take her out because I lived like a hermit, but that was about as far as my plan went. My beat up old truck was three blocks away and had a fifty-fifty chance of starting (not to mention the heat was touch and go) and it was about sixty degrees too chilly to take my old motorcycle. My stomach sank as I realized I would have to use the delivery van.

"Um," I started sheepishly, running my hand through my hair. I tried to smooth it down, but I had a feeling all I did was cover it in flour. Double shit.

"Something wrong?" she asked. "Look, Peeta…if this is a bad time I can just-"

"No! No, I….I just need a sec, I wasn't planning on this but-"

"-We could do it some other time?"

I turned to face her, taking both of her now-chilly hands in mine. "Katniss…I've been waiting since the day I met you to take you out on a date. I didn't plan this, but this is the best thing that could have happened. Are you uh…okay riding in the delivery van?" I asked doubtfully. This could very well be a deal breaker.

She smiled even brighter than before, giving me a mischievous look. "Does it smell like cake or bread?"

"Possibly both."

"Let's go."

I laughed with relief as she pulled me in the direction of the Mellark Bakery van parked in front of the shop. I opened the passenger side, only to be hit with the smell of powdered sugar and yeast.

"Smells like heaven," she chuckled, giving me a wink.

"Have I ever told you that I love that you love carbs almost as much as I do?" I joked. "Never met a girl so serious about her bagels."

"And you won't."

I felt my stomach do a nervous flop as I shut the door securely and ran around to the other side. The night was cold and quiet as our small part of town was preparing to retire for the day. Where on earth was I going to take her on a random Tuesday night? I didn't know of any place trendy, I didn't have reservations or even have nice clothes on. As I settled into the driver's seat I almost laughed at how unprepared I was for this date.

Yet as I looked sideways at Katniss as she sat blowing into her cold hands, I couldn't help but feel like the luckiest guy alive. The impossible was suddenly possible – I was going to finally have a chance with Katniss.

Now I just had to make it count.


	60. Chapter 60

Peeta POV Ch. 17

The delivery van rumbled to a start, the engine churning against the cold. Katniss was still rubbing her hands together to warm them, but she was still smiling excitedly. I waited a few seconds for the engine to start making remotely normal sounds before pulling away from the curb. When I'd pictured our first date in my head I certainly hadn't accounted for the fact that my truck was indisposed and all I had was a bread van.

Smooth, I thought with a grimace.

"So….where should we go?" I prodded, hoping to God she would give me some sort of clue of what she was hungry for this late. My meal schedule was all over the place after owning my own business for several months – I was used to just eating whenever I could grab a bite. I rarely went out except to meet up with friends, and even then we mostly frequented bars that just happened to have food. My knowledge of local 'date friendly' cuisine was almost nonexistent lately because I hadn't been on many dates since Katniss had dropped into my life. I wanted to take her someplace French and chic and expensive. Someplace with low lighting and a corner table where we could just sit and talk for hours.

However, the fact that it was well past normal dinner hours on a weekday night and I had zero reservations pretty much squashed that idea right out of the gate. I felt panicky and unprepared and not all good about the way things were going.

"I'm not picky," she promised, shaking her head. "Whatever you want to do."

I scanned my brain, wracking it to try to think of anyplace we could go. After a few moments I remembered the Italian place Finnick had taken Annie several times. Romantic, good food, and not terrible on the wallet. I was sold.

"Well, if you're a girl who loves carbs, then…how about Italian? Those people take their carbs pretty seriously," I offered. The heat was slowly starting to pour out of the vents in the old delivery van I noted with some relief. She seemed pleased with that suggestion.

Katniss nodded. "Carbs and tomatoes. That I can get on board with," she laughed. "You know a place?"

"I do. It's just a few blocks over. Been there for years."

"Oh yeah, that little place with all the pictures on the walls. Haven't been there in ages," she sighed. "That sounds great."

I heaved a sigh of relief and headed in the direction. They were open, to my luck, and able to seat us right away. It was a family place for the most part – it wasn't unusual to see large groups of people there for reunions and get togethers. It was the type of place that rarely changed menu items and people claimed the meat sauce recipe hadn't changed in forty years. I knew I wouldn't pay half of what some of the fancier places charged for dinner, yet I knew we'd at least be able to get a half decent bottle of wine.

I tried to remember my mother's countless lectures on manners and proper dining over the years – I helped her take her coat off, pulled out her chair, and even remembered my napkin on my lap. I couldn't tell if Katniss thought I was lame or was just surprised as I tried to act gentlemanly. She smiled at me from across the table and I felt my heart jump in my chest.

I was finally on a date with Katniss.

"Um….you really like wine, right?"

She folded her napkin on her lap and gave me a weird smile.

"Yes…I told you that once, right?"

I nodded.

She looked at me funny. "You remembered that?"

"I….weirdly remember a lot of the things you told me about yourself," I admitted slowly. I wanted to tell her things without sounding like a creepy, too-forward jerk.

"That's actually….really sweet. It's weirdly nice when people remember things about you and…listen when you talk," she added with an annoyed little eye roll. I guessed that was a jab at her ex, but she didn't' say anything else.

Whatever, I thought. It didn't matter. Tonight wasn't about Gale. I smiled. "Have I told you I wanted to take you out before? Because I definitely did. I really wanted to take you out," I joked.

I had to laugh at how stupid I sounded. Katniss didn't seem to mind. She gave me an amused little smile and gestured with her hands.

"Well, I obviously wanted you to take me out. What with the way I stormed into your bakery and demanded it and all. Which you've been very gracious about so far." She gave me a coy little smile and her grey eyes sparkled. I gulped.

"Not many women storm in and demand that, surprisingly. You're the first," I laughed.

"Well….here we are…" she sighed. I watched her glance nervously around the half-full restaurant. There were only a handful of couples there that were finishing up their dinners and a large family was pulling on their coats. Who was she expecting to see, I wondered?

"You'll have to forgive me," she cleared her throat, "It's um…been awhile since I've been out on a real date."

I wasn't sure what to do. I didn't want to ask about him, about Gale, but….I was dying to know what had happened between them for things to have deteriorated so quickly. One day he was her fiancé and all hope was lost, the next…she was out on a date with me. What did it all mean, I wondered? Or should I just thank my lucky stars that fate had smiled on me this one time and shut up and stop asking questions? I wasn't sure.

"Well….I haven't either," I admitted slowly. "Obviously I don't date, I…if I knew what I was doing I could have planned something nicer and really swept you off your feet," I joked.

Her hand flew to grab mine across the table. I felt my stomach do a flip at the warm touch of her fingers lightly gripping mine. "Peeta," she pleaded, "Stop. This is great. I just wanted to go out with you. I don't need fancy. In fact…I prefer it. I've had enough of that hoity toity crap to last me a lifetime. I want real," she insisted. "This place…it's perfect. It's quiet, it's got good food, and…we're here."

"You mean it?"

She nodded. "Now order me a cheap bottle of house wine so we can drink and talk and get to know each other. As….maybe more than friends. Can I tell you something?"

"Anything," I said quickly.

She sighed, glancing down at her lap. "I… I'm not promising anything but…the minute I took that ring off my finger and let my head clear…I saw your face. So…let's do this."

"Done," I grinned. I didn't need any convincing.

The server brought us a bottle of the house red, promising it was a perfect wine to break the ice for a first date.

"You knew it was our first date?" she asked the older gentleman, raising an eyebrow.

"I did," he replied, his Italian accent heavy and suave. "Something about the way a girl smiles at a nervous boy across the table from her says that you are on the first date," he quipped, uncorking the bottle. She laughed, throwing her head back as the server winked at me. "Relax, boy. You are here with a pretty girl. Enjoy yourself. Now have some of this fine wine, order something you can share, and let the night take you where it will."

I tried to hold in my nervous, awkward laugh until after he left.

"I guess I look as nervous as I feel," I chuckled. "Boy, he sure told me. Good suggestions for a first date though. Might have to listen to him."

Katniss rolled her eyes but laughed as we both sipped our wine. It helped with the nerves.

"Order for me. Order something amazing that we can share," she laughed, mimicking his heavy Italian accent.

"You trust me to order for us?"

"I trust you with my bagels and coffee, now that says a lot. I trust you with our dinner. I'll make it a test," she laughed.

I shook my head and picked up the menu. "A test?"

"Yeah…" she hummed, picking up her wine glass again. Maybe she was nervous too. "Order me something great and I know we're meant to be."

I took a long sip of wine and bit my lip as I perused the menu. "But no pressure."

"No, none," she joked.

Our server came back to take our order, and I did the best I could with it. Two small appetizers and one main entrée we could share. He nodded graciously at my choices, giving me another playful wink before leaving us alone again. She noticed and giggled.

"He doesn't know us, but he's rooting for us."

"He certainly is. So…I guess now I have to ask you about yourself? I know a lot, but there could be more to you that I don't know. That you didn't tell me while charming your way into free bagels and pastries."

"You willingly gave them away as I recall." Katniss sipped her wine, pausing to swallow. "I don't want to talk about me."

I paused, not sure what to say. "Okay….so you just want me to talk about myself? That seems to go against every first date rule I've ever heard…."

She sighed. "My life's a mess. Trust me. You don't even want to go there right now. My personal life is a mess, my family, my apartment, my jobs…plural, you'll notice," she chuckled. I watched her take another long sip of wine.

"Jobs?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yeah, uh….well you know I put school on the backburner while I deal with….everything," she grimaced, "So I had to get a few part time jobs to make ends meet. I moved out of…well, I got my own place. Shoebox, but…it's mine."

I had to chuckle slightly. This girl was a complete mess. I mean, a cute mess, but still a mess. The cheap house wine we'd ordered was clearly putting her in a chatty, honest mood and I was just along for the ride. But after months of not hearing her slightly raspy laugh and warm voice, I was pretty much willing to let her talk about nothing all night.

"Where are you working?"

She laughed. "That coffee shop next to the book store and Abernathy's."

"Abernathy's? Seriously? I love that place. Owner is a little uh….weird, but."

"Weird? Try drunk. He's a drunk. Haymitch is an alcoholic and always has been. I always thought it was a little self-destructive for a drunk to own a bar, but he does what he wants. I'd like to see someone try to get him not to do something."

"So he hired you recently?"

"Hired me back," she sighed. I watched her cheeks redden slightly. "He fired me last summer."

"You worked there before? How did I miss you?" I asked. "Finnick and I used to go there all the time."

"I only worked summers…when I was home from school," she explained. "He fired me for being mouthy with him. And for dumping ice water on him."

"You did what?"

She laughed her raspy laugh. "He was passed out drunk behind the bar one morning, so I filled up a bucket of ice water and dumped it on him. Served him right, he'd pissed his pants and thrown up all down the front of his shirt. Asshole needed a bath. I came in to open and just…there he was."

"I can see why he fired you."

She met my eyes and we both laughed.

"Yeah, well…had to eat some crow and go crawling back. Tips in that place are shit most of the time, but no one orders anything fancy and it's only busy on weekends. Usually by then I'm needing the money," she admitted.

"I should have gone there more often. Maybe we would have met earlier and I wouldn't have had to wait this long to finally take you out."

She shook her head, playing with the wrapper of her straw. "No, sadly….wouldn't have made a difference. Gale had his hooks in me since we were kids."

"Oh…you've known him awhile?"

"Yeah, our dads used to….hey now, no talking about that. It's in the past," she smiled weakly, tossing the wrapper on the table. "I'm here now."

"Yes," I agreed. "You're here now. And I'm glad you waltzed back into my bakery and demanded I take you out on a date."

She grinned and took another sip of wine, her eyes meeting mine. She gave me a flirtatious smile over the rim of her glass. "I'm glad I did too."


	61. Chapter 61

Peeta POV ch. 18

Before I knew it, our food came and we had to pause our conversation to eat. As hungry as I was, it was amazing to finally get to talk to her without worrying she was going to walk away from me. It seemed like before every time we got to talking in the bakery she had somewhere to be or someone to meet and I was always left wanting more. But tonight…it was just us. It was just us, good food, a bottle of wine, and a nearly empty restaurant. And the best part was that she was talking to me and I had an excuse to watch her without feeling like a total creep. Katniss had a way of shyly meeting my gaze and then holding it with an intensity that shouldn't have surprised me – she was very passionate. But I could study her eyes, her lips, the curve of her throat, the shine of her hair in the dim light…because she was there with me.

It was perfect.

"I'm going to scoot closer so we can share," she said, edging her chair closer to mine. Her knee brushed against mine under the table. My leg tingled at the touch. She'd held my hand briefly when we'd left the bakery, but this was one of the first times she'd willingly given me more than a fleeting touch. When she didn't move her leg and let it rest against mine, I smiled to myself. I could smell her hair. It didn't matter what shampoo a guy ever used – everything smelled ten times better in a girl's hair. Katniss' especially. Whatever fruity, flowery concoction she used on her dark brown locks was steadily wafting my way. I took a deep breath and tried to focus – I still needed to be charming and interesting enough to get a second date.

"What's mine is yours," I chuckled, sliding my plate in front of her. "Italian food is best when it's shared."

"Yet another thing we agree on," she snorted. "But I guess most of the time we just talk about food. And I agree on most things when it comes to food, so…"

Katniss wasn't shy about reaching her fork over mine to steal a bite of the cheesy tortellini or one of the roasted tomatoes. She asked me about my family, my work, my loft, and even my childhood.

"I'd love to see this loft of yours," she said, taking a long gulp of wine.

I raised an eyebrow in question. Did she mean that like I thought she did? Sure, she'd had a little wine, but surely she didn't mean…

"I didn't mean it like that!" she gasped her eyes widening. She took another sip of wine and grimaced at her glass. "I'm…sorry," she stuttered. "I'm nervous. Now you probably think I'm some wanton slut trying to half-drunkenly sweet talk her way into your apartment and pants."

I sputtered out another nervous laugh as her knee bumped mine under the table. "What? Why…why are you nervous? You've got nothing to be nervous about. I'm the one trying to make a good impression here," I babbled. "And I would never take you for a….wanton slut," I stuttered out. I felt like my tongue was swollen in my mouth as I tried to think of something kind and sweet and first date worthy, but all I could seem to do was blush at my plate and take another log sip of wine.

She covered her mouth and let her eyes widen and close before shaking her head. "I am…such a word-klutz sometimes. I'm nervous to be out with you on a date because I don't date, I mean I haven't in forever, I've been with the same guy for my whole life and now…now I'm here with you and I'm just getting half-lit and saying stupid stuff when I'm just trying to make normal conversation because….I just like you, Peeta," she rambled in one breath, waving her hand around. "This is new. I haven't had new in…ever."

I chuckled again.

She slapped my shoulder.

"Are you laughing at me?! Definitely losing point on that one. Definitely."

"Okay! Okay. We're just talking. I've been talking about re-doing my loft, you're….that's not weird that you asked to see it. I didn't think you were propositioning me Katniss, so just…"

Another nervous laugh bubbled out of my chest. I couldn't help it. "I knew what you meant though. And you can come and see it anytime. I'm wandering through construction with the help of my dad and You Tube, so it's a bit of a mess."

"I bet it's beautiful," she sighed, spearing another tortellini. I watched her take the fork to her mouth and her lips delicately pull it off. She met my eyes and gave me a blank look.

"What?"

"Nothing," I muttered, snapping out of it. "I just…why do you think it would be beautiful?"

"Well," she said, sipping her wine again, "If it's anything like those cream cheese pastries you put together…or your frosted sugar cookies you do, well…it'd have to be. You put a lot of care into things and…it shows. I've never seen you make something at the bakery that wasn't like…just perfect. You're artsy, aren't you?"

I felt a little color start to rise in my cheeks. My mother had scolded me when I was growing up for being slow and as she put it, 'pokey about everything last thing'. Now Katniss was praising me for doing something that I loved and I was a little overwhelmed. "I am. How did you know?"

She shrugged. "I feel like artsy people are either very…fiery or very passionate, or both. You seem like you could be either."

"If by passionate you mean I used to hide my doodling from my mother, then yes," I chuckled. "My mother thought doodling was silly – she called it daydreaming."

Katniss pouted. "That sounds mean. Erm, not that your mom is mean," she quickly insisted, "It's just that…well, I guess that does sound mean, yeah."

"She's….particular, that's for sure. She thinks I should have gotten a fancy management or finance degree like my two older brothers. But I didn't want to do that."

"You own your own business. Your own thriving business," Katniss pointed out with a huff. "That's not good enough for her?"

I shrugged, secretly impressed that Katniss wasn't buying my mother's indifference for my love of baking. "I think she thinks…I'm too much like my dad. She loves him, but he always drove her a little crazy with his constant need to make things beautiful and take his time. She just wanted it done."

Katniss nodded. "I know people like that," she sighed, her eyes going somewhat distant. "That's never a good way to be. Never change yourself for people, Peeta. You're wonderful the way you are."

I eyed her wine glass specutively. "Is that you or the wine talking?"

She winkled her nose and gave me a sheepish smile. "I'm pretty sure its seventy-thirty on that one. But just because I've had wine doesn't mean I'm not being sincere."

I laughed and bumped her leg with mine. "I never doubted it, Katniss."

We stayed and talked until the wait staff started blowing out the little candles in the center of the tables and folding the table cloths. I paid the waiter with a generous tip and he left me with a conspicuous wink. I shook my head as Katniss let out a chortle that turned into one of her gut laughs (she'd definitely drunk most of that second bottle of wine) and let me lead her out of the restaurant. The cold air greeted us, but for the first time since I can remember it didn't bother me. Hell, maybe I'd had a little wine myself – I looked over at her and felt warm. Her cheeks were pink in the light of the streetlamp as we slowly shuffled towards the bread van. I tried not to cringe at the fact that I was driving my stupid bread van on our first official date – why couldn't I own some swanky car with leather seats that warmed up in the cold? I cursed myself until I felt her arm tighten around mine as we walked down the chilly sidewalk. A light snow had begun falling, but it wasn't the mushy, slushy, gross kind that we'd been getting for weeks. No, this was light and flaky and shimmered in the light of the streetlamps. Perfect, romantic, first date snow. I felt giddy – our date had been perfect. Good food, good conversation, and I'd remembered my manners. I was well on my way to being Prince Charming.

Glancing over at her as we walked, I watched a snowflake get caught on her eyelash. She blinked a few times and grinned at me, clearly enjoying it even though it was freezing out.

I pulled the passenger door open with a flourish. She met my eye and giggled to herself, but dutifully climbed in. If she minded being driven around in a bread van, she didn't show it. I climbed in the driver's side and started it up, letting it rumbled to life despite the cold.

"Was that so bad?" I asked once I'd settled into my seat.

"What?"

"You were nervous before. About being on a date. Was that so bad? A guy buys you a tasty meal and doesn't mind sharing?"

She pulled her coat around her tighter and grinned.

"He bought me wine too. More wine that he should have, but…"

"He wanted to impress you. And make you feel comfortable. If an extra glass of wine or two helped you feel that way, then…I wouldn't hold it against you."

Katniss sat in the passenger side, her head leaning back against the headrest. She tilted her head towards me and grinned.

"What?" I laughed.

She shrugged, then took a deep, appreciative breath. "It smells like heaven in here."

I glanced around the aging van. "I just smell bread."

Katniss pursed her lips and smiled, shrugging. "And cake. And bagels. And…flour?"

"I delivered a wedding cake yesterday, yes. The smell of the flour and the bagels just…lingers in here," I chuckled. "A few decades of driving bread and pastries around will make a vehicle smell like that I'm afraid."

"Decades?"

I nodded. "Pretty sure this van is about as old as I am."

"It's got character. I like character."

I pressed my lips together and tried to figure out what to say next. The date was technically over, but would I be too cocky to ask for another? After months of uncertainty and hoping and wishing I couldn't let her leave me tonight without knowing where this was going – if it was going anywhere at all.

"What about…me?"

She turned to look at me in surprise. "Do you have character? Well, Peeta, I mean-"

"-No, no," I chuckled. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "I meant…do you like…me? I had fun tonight Katniss, and I…uh….would really like to take you out again sometime. If you want."

Katniss smiled, pressing her lips together to stare down at her hands. I felt stupid and awkward asking her if she liked me – something a fourth grader would do, no doubt.

"I mean I know things just ended with…him, so if you need time or whatever that's cool. That's…understandable. But I'm here if you…want."

I braved a glance over at her, wondering if I'd already somehow blown it with her. She was still smiling at me, her grey eyes bright and her lips parted slightly. I couldn't look away. She held my gaze and blinked slowly, her eyes suddenly squinting slightly as if she was thinking about something. I didn't have time to wonder what it was before she launched herself at me.

I let out a hiss of surprise as she leaned forward and bravely cupped my jaw, pulling me towards her with a force the surprised me. Her lips were on mine in a dizzying frenzy and all I could think about was holy shit. I leaned across the gearshift of the old van, the stick shoving violently into my gut as she kissed me several more times, stopping to exhale a few times like she was out of breath. Maybe she was – my heart was certainly pounding. Pulling away, she let her eyes flick up to meet mine. They were full of question. I only had time to grin for a split second before she laughed and kissed me again. Her lips were soft and luscious and everything I knew they'd be. Her mouth slanted against mine as if we'd done this a thousand times as a satisfied feeling settled in my gut. She pulled away to slide herself across the gap between us and sit sideways on my lap. I grunted in surprise but couldn't help my hands from grasping her cheeks when she assaulted me with her kisses again. For once I felt blessed to be in a crampt old bread van with Katniss on my lap, leaning over me smelling like Italian food and flowery shampoo. I willed myself not to get hard as her cold hands slid down my neck and rested on my shoulders and her tongue swiped against my teeth. Opening my mouth wider, I let her tongue touch mine and she moaned. Oh god, did I just make Katniss moan? I was lost in the sweetness of her as she kissed me with more passion than I thought one person could have.

She broke away, crouched against the ceiling of the van. I watched her eyes scan my face as she waited for me to speak.

I exhaled shakily and licked my lips. Shit, she'd kissed me to hard they felt almost bruised, but it'd been wonderful. "Wow…" I could only mutter.

Katniss shook her head and brushed her hands across my jaw. "I don't want this to be over."

I felt relief wash over me as I realized she felt the same way I did. She wanted to see me again! This wouldn't be the one time rebound date I'd feared. I rejoiced on the inside as I began mentally planning out second date. I'd wow her this time – a suit, maybe flowers, and maybe reservations somewhere nice…

Katniss inhaled deeply, bumping her nose against mine. Her voice was breathy and needy as she spoke. "Take me to your place, Peeta."


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 19: Peeta's POV

"Take me to your place, Peeta."

I opened my eyes at her words, my mouth going slightly slack. My heart thudded relentlessly in my chest. "W-what?"

She nodded, cupping my jaw in her hands and running her fingers along the stubble that had formed during the day. I stared at her in the dim light of the bread van, waiting for her to speak again. Did she really just say what I thought she said?

"Take me back to your place. I don't want to go…I don't want this to be over. Just…please."

What did I even say to that? I gave her a dumbfounded stare and just nodded. "O-okay," I stuttered. Katniss slid off my lap and back into the passenger seat, her warm hand squeezing mine before she settled back and fastened her seatbelt. She wanted to go with me. Back to my place. She didn't want the night to be over. And she wasn't exactly kissing me like she just wanted some coffee.

I pulled away from the curb and started to drive, my mind racing. What if this led to what I thought it would? What if I took her back to my place and we do what I think we're going to do and she freaks out and never calls me again? Then this would be over before it even started. Shit, I needed to pull it together and stop being such a pussy. If I told Finnick I took the girl I'd been pining after to my place after a romantic dinner and shot her down when she tried to get into my bed, he'd never let me live it down. I suddenly had disturbing images of handing him my balls on a silver platter because I didn't deserve to have them. Fuck, I thought. One night stands did not usually turn into relationships. They turned into something awkward and secret and eventually fade into a funny story to tell when you were out with friends several years later.

I glanced at Katniss as I drove. I didn't want Katniss to fade into that – I wanted Katniss to be a part of my real story, my forever one. Maybe I didn't deserve my balls, but she didn't deserve to let herself make a mistake like this. Her breakup with Gale had to be so fresh, so new that it really fucking mattered how I handled this. I didn't want to ruin this, but I couldn't scare her away. I gripped the steering wheel as I fought with myself on what to do.

We were quiet for the rest of the drive to my loft. I parked behind the store in the alley and climbed out, Katniss following suit.

"This way," I told her, offering her a shaky smile. She grinned back, slipping her hand into mine. Fuck.

I was starting to think that word a lot. That's never a good thing.

She followed me up the back staircase and into the hallway above the shop, where we paused outside my door. I fiddled with my keys for a moment before turning to look at her. "Um…this is a work in progress, so just…go easy on me."

"Deal," she smiled brightly, following me inside. I'd finished sanding and staining the hardwood floors the week before, so they at least looked presentable. The main space of the loft was the open area to the left – tall windows faced the street with exposed beams and rough brick walls. To the right was an open area with my halfway finished kitchen – appliances along the wall with an island and a few bar stools. Boxes of tile and grout littered the surface and almost everything was covered in either tile dust or sawdust.

"This is the uh…main area I guess," I swallowed back my nervousness. I shrugged out of my coat and knelt down to plug in the lone lamp I had standing without a shade in the corner of the main room. "Living room…well, soon to be living room. And this is the kitchen and dining area."

She shrugged out of her coat, placing it on the back of the couch with mine. I watched as she took in the unfinished space with a blank face and wide eyes.

"Like I said…work in progress, but….what do you think?"

"I love how open it is…Peeta, this is amazing!"

"Thanks. Want a tour?" I asked hopefully. Maybe if she was focused on my loft project she'd forget about whatever it was she wanted to do a few minutes ago. If this girl jumped me and asked me to go all the way tonight I wasn't sure if I could refuse her. I had a feeling it would be very difficult to say 'no' to Katniss Everdeen.

Next to the kitchen was the open staircase where my bed and a second bathroom was, but I bypassed it to show her the hallway straight ahead. It was rough, exposed brick and I'd just installed a set of track lights in the hallway that week. I proudly flicked the switch, showing off my electrical skills.

"Just installed this week. Didn't even electrocute myself once," I bragged.

She laughed. "That's always good."

"Yeah. So…bathroom," I pointed to the first door, "This will be a closet….and then down here is a guess room slash office slash room to store all of my junk in," I joked.

"Where's your bedroom?" she asked casually.

I coughed in surprise and tried to look calm. "Oh, it's uh…up those stairs by the kitchen. Nothing really interesting up there – just my unmade bed, a pile of clothes to be ironed, and another bathroom," I said quickly. "Do you want to go to the kitchen? I could make us something to drink."

Katniss gave me a little knowing smile and grabbed my hand again to lead me to the kitchen. I could tell she was still feeling the effects of the wine – her eyes were slightly glassy and her cheeks were flushed, even in my drafty apartment. I had a wood burning stove in the living room, but I hadn't been home all day to load it with firewood so my fire had gone out. She wove her way through stacks of building supplies and tools, stopping in the kitchen to look at me expectantly.

"Now what?"

I chuckled at her. "I can make us something. Are you opposed to hot chocolate?"

"Never. You know that," she quipped. "I'm a sucker for your hot chocolate."

I filled my teakettle and placed it on the stove, killing time by pointing out little things I was working on here and there. The loft was truly a work in progress and I hoped she could at least appreciate that. My mind took me to a traitorous place and pictured what kind of house or fancy apartment that Gale guy of hers had. Probably something fabulous and huge, no doubt. I pictured three car garages and fancy foyers and marble bathrooms. He owned a company, I realized. Not just any company, but a successful one. What sort of things did Katniss give up when she left him, I wondered?

"You got quiet."

Katniss' voice broke me out of my dreamlike state of picturing what wealth and fancy things I didn't have to offer her. I looked up at her, my face clearly betraying me.

"What's wrong?"

"What? Oh, uh…just thinking. This whole…under construction loft thing doesn't look like much, but someday when I finish it it'll be….cool, I uh…think."

I don't sound very convincing, do I? Shit.

She glanced around the space, nodding. "I think so too. But you looked worried. Where did your mind just go?"

I winced. "Just…me thinking. You're really the first person to see this place bedsides Finnick and my dad. Can I be petty for a second? Well, fifty percent petty and shallow and fifty percent insecure."

Katniss smiled, shaking her head. I watched her jam her hands into her pocket and turn a little pink. "Peeta….I'm an honest person. My sister says I say about twice as much as I should on any given day, so…I guess you could say I'm an honesty girl. Shoot."

I laughed awkwardly, silently willing the water to boil. "I just ah…this doesn't look like much to a girl you're trying to impress. It looks like…well…a mess."

"Peeta…" she started, exhaling slowly. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something but was at a complete loss. Great. She was quiet for a few moments, her eyes scanning the open space. The shrill scream of the teakettle made me jump. Taking the pot off, I prepped two mugs with my special hot chocolate mix and added in some heavy cream and a few pieces of dark chocolate from the fridge. I half watched her, half watched what I was doing as she walked around the kitchen island and surveyed the space. I stopped stirring the hot chocolate and dropped the spoon on the counter.

"Say something," I pleaded.

The loft was quiet as she turned around, her grey eyes searching mine. "You really thought I'd be unimpressed with this place?" she asked in disbelief.

I shook my head and picked up the mugs. "I don't know you well enough to know how you'd react. I mean…call me crazy Katniss, but I know who you were engaged to. That's a lot to live up to," I admitted, handing her a mug of hot chocolate.

She accepted it and wrapped her hands around it before taking a long, slow, sip. "You have nothing to worry about. I was just thinking that….he actually doesn't even come close to comparing to you," she replied.

My stomach flopped as my eyes locked with hers. She watched me as I turned and leaned on the counter for support. I took a long gulp of my drink for something to do and winced at the nearly scalding heat of it.

"You can't be serious."

She paused a moment, taking another sip of her drink. I followed suit, more nervously drinking than anything. Part of what I loved about this girl was that I never knew what she was about to say at any given moment. Would she throw my insecurity in my face, the way I deserved? I knew I was being insecure about Gale, but could she blame me for that? I mean, the guy had to have been able to hand her anything she wanted on a silver platter. That was almost impossible to compete with.

Putting her mug down on the counter, she stepped closer to me and placed her hand on mine. Glancing down at the unfinished countertop, I watched as her smooth, feminine hand covered over mine.

"Peeta, I mean that. In just three short hours, you've taken me out for one of the best meals I've ever had, you've listened to me, you've asked me about myself, and you've managed to be a complete gentleman about it. You make me feel like what I say is important and interesting and that you want to spend time with me. You brought me back to your home that you're building with your own two hands and then you give me a tour and make me the best…seriously, the best hot chocolate I've ever had. Frankly, no one from my past even compares to you. You're awfully good and making a girl feel cherished and impressed. My only real criticism for you is that…."

I held my breath.

"…it's a week before Christmas and you don't have a tree."

I exhaled choppily, laughing with relief. She giggled, playfully slugging me on the arm. "You seriously thought I wouldn't be impressed by all this? Peeta….come on. What kind of girl wouldn't? You're better than watching the Food Network or HGTV – you bake and you can make a home? Seriously? You can't be real."

Shaking my head, I chuckled and watched her hand on mine. "That is not…what I expected you to say," I admitted. "At all."

Stepping closer, she lined herself up with me, toe to toe, and glanced up. I felt my chest contact at the sight of her so close to me again; her hair falling in soft, cinnamon brown waves beside her face. Her breath, which smelled like chocolate, her cool grey eyes, her pink mouth….her mouth…oh God…

I was kissing her again and I didn't even consciously do it. Oh fuck, this girl….I kissed her softly at first, but it was hard to rein myself in after we started. Her hands were slightly cool from the chill in the air as they ran up my chest and up to my jawline. Her fingers seemed to curl around my face as she kissed me back – hard. I was so blissed out in the feeling of her kisses that I barely noticed when she opened her mouth wide enough to slip her tongue past my lips. It was playful at first, barely touching mine and ghosting over my teeth and lower lip. Then she assaulted me with her mouth. Fuck, it was magnificent. This girl could kiss and I was loving it.

She broke away and ran her short fingernails over my jaw. "Have I ever told you that you have the sexiest jawline I've ever laid eyes on?"

I choked back my shock. "Uh…no," I laughed, laying a light kiss on the side of her mouth. My hands rose up her sides, skimming the outline of her body to rest on her shoulders. "You have not."

"You do," she whispered. "I've always wanted to touch you here. And tell you how sexy it looks when you clench your jaw…." She laughed to herself, quietly. "You taste like chocolate."

"So do you."

The apartment was quiet. I opened my eyes slowly – I'd been clenching them shut. She stared up at me with a hopeful gaze.

"I want to taste you again."

"Is that the wine talking?"

"Who cares?"

"I don't," I muttered, taking her hands in mine. I pressed them to my jaw as I kissed her again. And again. And again. Her hands on me and her lips on mine was utter bliss. It felt so right – kissing her was new and exciting and wonderful but it felt like we'd been doing it for a thousand kisses instead of just a few. Our mouths molded together effortlessly, like we were just made to kiss each other this way. Hell, maybe we were. Maybe it was fate that made her dump him and come into my bakery and demand a date that night. Maybe it was kismet and meant to be and destiny and just fucking written in the stars that we were supposed to be together.

It sure felt that way, anyway.

Katniss kissed me back with such passion, such need. I couldn't believe that she seemed to want me so badly. Well, I should have – her hands slowly sunk down, lowering to the waist of my khakis. I felt her fingers hook around the top of them and pull and suddenly I was there against her and hard and hot and…shit.

"You uh…didn't show me that bedroom of yours," she panted between kisses. "Should we maybe go up there?"

She kissed me again, her lips pleading and yearning against mine. I breathed the heady, chocolate scented air between us and tried to get a grip on myself. I didn't want this to end, but it all just felt so…so fast. Her lips were on mine again in a heartbeat as she held every inch of me against her body. My body warred with my mind as I tried to break myself out of this trance she'd put me in with her mouth. My words sounded rushed when I spoke them.

"I want to take this slow," I whispered, my voice cracking. I didn't want to be so emotional in this moment, I just wanted to live it – but I couldn't. I couldn't just rush into this with her and let the wine make her decision. I didn't want to be the rebound guy after Gale. Instead I wanted Gale to be the guy who showed her what she didn't want and what love didn't have to be like before she met the one she'd been waiting for.

And I wasn't going to get there by sleeping with her on the first date.

She looked up at me, her grey eyes bright and bleary. Whatever spell we'd been under while kissing and exploring each other in my unfinished kitchen was broken.

"Why?" she demanded, but not out of anger – it was curiosity in her voice.

"I want to do this right," I answered honestly. "And…as amazing as this feels I…I think we should wait."

Her hands were off mine in a second. She backed away, as if she'd been burned or slapped.

"Katniss?" I pleaded. "Say something. You look upset – I'm not rejecting or…or saying I didn't like what we were doing, I just think-"

She cut me off. "-no, Peeta, I…I get it. You're very right, I…." she ran her hands up her arms, hugging herself as she refused to meet my eye. "I….thank you for tonight Peeta, but I have to go."

Before I could even speak, she'd grabbed her coat and bolted for the door. The slam snapped me out of it, and I knew I couldn't let it end that way. I grabbed my own jacket from where I'd tossed it onto the back of the couch and rushed out after her. I wasn't not going to let it end like this, not after everything I'd gone through the past few years and almost losing her forever to him. I wasn't going to let fate or fortune or whatever it was that had brought her into my bakery that day let her go like this. This was my life, my future, and my destiny, and damn it – I was going to have a say in it for once.

"Katniss, wait!"


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 20 – Peeta POV

"Katniss, wait!"

Her boots thudded down the steps outside my door, jarring me into action. What was I doing just standing there? Yanking the door open, I let it crash into the freshly hung drywall behind it. The doorknob crunched as it lodged itself into the chalky material, but I didn't care. I'd fix it later. I needed to go after her and fix my life before I would be worried about fixing the damn drywall.

"Katniss!"

She made it down to the alley behind the bakery before I could catch up to her. I wasn't sure where she was going – I didn't know where she lived, but the snow was steadily falling now and it was late. I gently grabbed her arm, sliding to a slippery halt in the snowy alley. She jarred to a stop, but didn't fight my grasp.

"Katniss….why did you leave?"

Her breaths were slow and even as she turned to face me. Her silvery eyes bore into mine as her breath became tiny puffs of air in front of her. The snow began sticking to her hair as she watched me with trepidation.

"Say something," I pleaded.

She exhaled a few more times, her shoulders shaking slightly. Snow was collecting in her dark hair as we stood there in the alley, waiting for her to speak. Katniss bit her lip and looked like she wanted to say about a million things, but all she could apparently say was one word.

"Why?" she croaked.

I blinked. "Why? What…"

"Why did you stop me? Us? Why did you bring that to a sliding stop in your kitchen, Peeta? What was that?"

I gaped at her. Shit. That was not the question I wanted to answer. How did I explain my reasoning to a girl that was clearly battling some demons? I didn't want to make her feel worse, but I had to be honest with her – she deserved that much after everything. "Katniss….I….I didn't want that to happen tonight."

My words seemed to ignite a bomb inside of her. I watched her grey eyes go from steely to absolutely lethal in a mere second. Her face turned almost red as she flailed her arms and let out a frustrated cry.

"Arrrgh! Peeta….What about what I want? Huh? What about what I want to happen between us? Did you ever stop to think about that?"

Pausing, I closed my mouth and frowned down at the snow ground. Shit, she had me there.

"No…no, I didn't."

"I feel…humiliated. I'm so….shit," she cursed, her hands moving to grasp at her hair. She'd shrugged away from my grasp, turning in a little circle in the hallway. Turning to me suddenly, she pinned me with an accusatory gaze, rendering me helpless.

"What if I wanted for it to go further, huh? What if I wanted tonight to just forget…just forget how shitty the past six months have been, how fucked up and miserable I've been just to have one night…one night of….something with someone? I left because I wanted to feel, Peeta."

"Feel?" I heard myself ask.

"Feel, yes, feel. NO one in that house knew how to….express a god damn emotion. Everyone was afraid of feeling something. My dad…" she trailed off, twisting her hands in front of her as she struggled to get out what she was trying to say. "My dad…he... died, and…he died and I was supposed to just wish the pain and sorrow away with a highball glass of fancy bourbon and a stupid little pill," she wailed, her voice trailing off. I felt my mouth drop slightly open as I began to imagine the pain she must have felt in that situation. Her father died and she wasn't supposed to be upset about it? I imagined how I would feel if my own father suddenly passed away and just the imaginary thought of it made my entire chest go tight.

"They made me feel like I was the insane one when I wanted to just cry or talk or…express myself in any way that wasn't polite conversation. He was gone and I just..." she sniffed, "I wasn't supposed to even talk about it like it hurt. It wasn't something I could just shove under the rug."

I was silent, trying to think of something to say while watching her face twist miserably as she fought to keep from crying even harder.

"Katniss…your dad died?" I asked gently. "You didn't tell me…"

"How could I? You were just…this guy that wasn't my fiancé that I thought about and…how could I? It wasn't exactly a normal conversation topic. What was I supposed to do?" she asked, her breaths choppy.

I shifted on my feet and shook my head. "You could have talked to me about anything. I would have done anything I could to….to just be a friend to you. That's what I was ready to be to you, Katniss. When I thought you were going to marry Gale, I…I still thought we'd be friends. You could have told me about your dad. I'm so sorry he's gone."

She sniffed again and bobbed her head a few times. "I'm sad he's gone, but that's not why I left Gale. I knew that wasn't a good place for me to be so I had to get away from him. His entire family," she huffed. "I guess I just ran to you and hoped you could fix me or just make me forget for a minute what a shit storm my life suddenly was."

"Maybe," I agreed, "But would you feel any better in the morning if we'd kept going and…" I trailed off. "You'd still be sad and I'd feel like I'd used you. That's not how I want you to feel about me, Katniss. Not one bit."

Katniss chewed her lip again and shoved her hands in her coat pockets.

"Why did you make me stop?" she asked sadly, her voice wavering slightly. "You can say all you want Peeta, but you…you kissed me back. I wasn't imagining that." She wiped her eyes and gave me an expectant stare.

"I….honestly?"

She nodded.

"Katniss, I…I wanted to mean something to you. God, this is….I'm blowing this, aren't I? Well…I wanted to mean something and matter to you," I sighed, "All those months I'd waited for you to be free of him and just give me a chance and…I guess I thought you wouldn't even give me a second look if I just…took advantage of your grief and slept with you on our first date. I was afraid…" I trailed off, watching her watch me. She stood in front of me, arms clutched around herself as she waited to hear my confession. What else did I have to lose?

"I was afraid that if we gave in…and believe me, I wanted to. You're just…perfect, okay? You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid friggin' eyes on and I want to, okay? I want to a thousand times yes, just so you know, but," I rambled on, "But what prince charming talks a girl into bed the first date? I mean, what is that, you know? What kind of guy would I be if I did that to you, Katniss? It wouldn't be some beautiful, mutual thing like it's supposed to be. It would be this rushed, revenge filled thing that is over before it even starts. I wouldn't want you to sleep with me because you're in pain and you need a distraction. That's not what I wanted to be."

I panted as I stopped, the cold air flying into my already chilled lungs. Katniss' tears she'd let slip during my belligerent rant had half dried, half frozen on her cheeks as I spoke. I hung my head and waited for her response.

"What made you think I needed saving?"

I lifted my head. "What?"

"What made you think I needed saving? That I needed a prince charming? That I needed some girly picture of a guy riding up on a white horse to save me?"

My shoulders fell. "I….it was that day you came back into the bakery. Earlier this summer. You looked….beautiful, but just not the same. You were thinner…your hair was different, and you just looked to skinny, Katniss, you're a beautiful girl. But you were too skinny and your eyes didn't have that light in them. You weren't your usual self. I think you knew it," I sniffed from the cold air, shaking my head. "You've always been the most amazing thing, taking my breath away every time you walked into that god damn bakery but…."I sighed in defeat, "I knew when I saw you that something was different. You'd changed. And I guess I just thought that girl needed saving. And I would have thrown myself in front of a bus to do it. I would have done anything to be the guy that could do something nice for you in that moment, Katniss. I would have done anything in my power to make your eyes light up and to hear that gut laugh of yours. Anything," I rambled nonsensically.

"I remember that day," she sighed, brushing some snowflakes out of her hair. "I remember coming to see you and just feeling…lost."

"I'm sorry," I muttered. "I know you enough now to know that you're not that type of girl. You're not the kind to wait around and have someone else solve your problems. But please realize that I'm type kind of guy that still wants to help. It's programmed into me to be that way."

Katniss shook her head, a fresh set of tears welling up in her eyes. She looked away, sniffing. "I ran away because I was humiliated. I thought you didn't want me," she finally admitted after a long silence.

I stared at her. She was enchanting, even standing in a back alley that reeked of stale food and garbage and after crying as hard as she had. But she was hurting – anyone could see that.

"Nothing could be further from the truth. I've wanted you for so long that…it felt…cheap to just take advantage of you when clearly…you're hurting, Katniss. I don't know the whole story of what happened these past few months that led you to here, but…I want to know, don't you see?" I asked. I shook my head. "I want to matter to you. I don't want to be some guy you just forget about after one night. I want to be someone to you."

Katniss watched me with teary, guarded eyes. She wiped some snow away from her eyelashes and coughed out a laugh.

"I was so awful to you Peeta."

"What?"

Shaking her head, she sniffed again and shifted her feet with a bitter little laugh. "I…I knew going back to talk to you was wrong, I knew it wasn't right that I had a fiancé and a life and…all that other crap going on…it was wrong that I wanted to come back and see you. It was wrong that I kept thinking of you too."

"You thought about me?" I asked, slightly breathless. I felt like I'd been punched in the gut. "So…it wasn't just me?"

She shook her head again. "No," she wheezed slightly. "It wasn't just you. That day you finally asked me out I…I wanted to say yes," she answered slowly. She glanced down at her left hand. "Then I remembered Gale. I remembered I was engaged. Peeta…you made me forget just for a moment that I was with someone else. You made me want to be with you."

"And?"

"Well…that was the beginning of the end. How could I marry someone I forgot about when…when you were there, making me feel more things than I had in years? I went home that night and instead of feeling guilty for wanting to actually say yes to you, I kept thinking…what if Gale wasn't in the picture anymore? Then when we ran into you at Abernathys…and you saw him. The look on your face, Peeta, I…"

I was quiet for a moment, glancing at my feet. My hands shook slightly, but I formed them into fists at my side and shoved any fear away.

This was it.

"Do you still love him? Are you sorry you left?" I asked softly. I heard my voice quiver slightly - maybe from nerves, maybe from the cold, I don't know. But I needed to hear what she would say to this.

"No. And…no."

That was all I needed to hear.

In one fluid motion that I never thought I'd be smooth enough to pull off, I stepped forward and closed the distance between us, gently grabbing her face and pulling her mouth to mine. Her lips joined with mine effortlessly, as if we'd done this a thousand times before. I kissed her with every ounce of passion I'd been saving up since I met her.

I finally had her. I'd let her go if she wanted to go, but…what if I made her never want to leave in the first place?

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of 'The Vow' - but with twists. Will NOT have the same ending.


End file.
